The Bonds of FamilyRewrite
by The Lilac Elf of Lothlorien
Summary: Petunia Dursley has never really thought of Harry as family. But when Harry loses his leg to injuries from a car accident made worse because of cancer, Petunia starts to realize that no matter what else Harry is, he's still her blood.
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTES: With this rewrite, I wanted to change things a bit and make things a bit more interesting. I'm still keeping the main pairing as Harry/Luna. Not sure about the Draco/Ginny pairing though. I'm also going to try and write Moody into this story more since I find him an interesting character to write.

Oh, and to the inevitable question of 'Why whack off Harry's leg even in the rewrite?', let me just say that it's part of the plotline of the story. Thank you.

Also, after reading this or any of my other rewrites, please register your thoughts and opinions with my posting listed as '5 Questions for Readers' to help with my ongoing rewriting projects.

* * *

HARRY POTTER: The Bonds of Family

* * *

CHAPTER 1

x

Lying upside down in a rugged ditch, the tires on the old car were still turning slowly as the police and EMS arrived at the scene of the crash, lights flashing and sirens blaring.

The firefighters had checked that there were no gas leaks and as they worked to free the people trapped in the car, they kept eyes open and every few seconds, checked for the smells of gasoline or other engine fluids which could ignite if they found a hot spot on the wreckage.

The 18-wheeler truck which had slammed into the car was standing at an angle across the darkened street, its front smashed, and the windshield cracked but that was nothing as compared to the car it had hit, whose entire body was smashed and crushed.

As the police officers pulled out flashlights so as to better examine the wrecked vehicle, they could already tell it was bad. Windows were broken and the glass shards glittered as they lay sprinkled like miniscule diamonds over the people inside. Blood was spattered and smeared on almost every surface and at first, no one moved or made a sound as the paramedics hurried in to rescue the people trapped inside.

The cop in charge, Inspector Michael Franklin, watched silently as paramedics worked to free the four people inside the wreckage: a man and woman each in their late thirties and two teenage boys, one heavy-set, and the other painfully thin.

"Inspector?" One of the other officers came up and handed Franklin a wallet. "Driver had ID. Vernon Dursley Looks like they were coming back from the mall. Found shopping bags and some leftover food and popcorn containers."

Franklin nodded vaguely, as he looked at the accident scene. "Try to track down any other possible family." Looking at the two teenagers being carefully removed from the wreckage, he added, "We may need to contact a next of kin. How bad is it?"

Inspector Daniel Harper shook his head as the driver of the wrecked car was loaded into an ambulance along with his wife. "Lot of cuts and scrapes. Probably some broken bones as well. The skinnier boy looks to be in the worst shape. His right leg was badly crushed. But everyone was strapped in and the car had front and side airbags. The car rolled, so that probably caused some of the injuries. But it looks like everyone's going to make it, at least."

Franklin watched as the heavier of the two teenage boys was the last to be loaded into a waiting ambulance. The other teenager's face was covered with bandages which were still covered with blood. Once the ambulance doors closed, the ambulance took off, sirens and lights wailing in the cool night.

As Franklin glanced back at the car, the tires slowly came to a stop.

* * *

Petunia Dursley woke to the worst headache of her life as a doctor shone a penlight in her eyes. "Ugh…" she groaned, trying to focus on the doctor's face.

"Welcome back, Mrs. Dursley," Dr. Mallory Norton said, lowering the light. "How do you feel?"

"Where's my son?" Petunia asked as she remembered the accident the night before. Was Dudley alright? Was he even still…?

"Harry or Dudley?" Norton asked, checking Petunia's heart rate and the stitched lacerations to her arms.

Petunia sighed, hating answering the question repeatedly to teachers, doctors, and everyone else. "Dudley is my son. Harry is my nephew. His parents died when he was a baby."

Dr. Norton pulled a chair over to Petunia's bedside before sitting down. "Mrs. Dursley, was your husband drinking last night?"

"A few beers with dinner, why?" Petunia answered, evasively. The last thing she wanted right now was to get into Vernon's drinking habits of late.

"That's all?" Norton asked, doubtfully. "Because according to Vernon's blood tests I'd say he was drinking much more than that," she added, crossing her arms. "The alcohol levels in his blood were far higher than 'a few beers'."

"Lately… he's been near drunk all the time," Petunia admitted, shamefully. "I tried to get Vernon to let me drive home, but he got behind the wheel anyway."

Norton repressed the urge to roll her eyes. What was it with wives letting their drunk husbands have free reign? "Well, your husband should have listened to you. If he had, he wouldn't be in a coma."

"What?" Petunia said in disbelief. "Will he be alright?"

"I don't know," Norton sighed. "There was significant head trauma. We won't know anything until he wakes up."

"What about Dudley and Harry?" Petunia asked. She couldn't help being worried about Harry. She might not like the boy but he was still her last remaining family and with her parents and grandparents long gone…

"Dudley's left leg was broken in three places," Norton said, looking grim. "Luckily, they were clean breaks. We've set his leg and he should heal well, but he got some of the window glass in his eyes. We'll have to wait and see if there was any permanent damage."

"And Harry?" Petunia asked, feeling a twisting in her stomach.

Shrugging, Dr. Norton said, "Harry's still unconscious. He broke two ribs and one of them punctured his right lung. He's intubated. But that's not the worst of it, I'm afraid."

"What do you mean?" Petunia asked sitting up a bit. What was worse than not being able to breathe because of a punctured lung?

"Your nephew's right leg was severely crushed in the accident. He has two compound fractures of the tibia, his kneecap was shattered, and there is significant muscle and nerve damage," Norton said, handing Petunia a clipboard. "He's stable for right now, but we need your consent for surgery."

Petunia read the form quickly then looked up sharply at the doctor. "You want to amputate his leg?"

"If we don't, not only is there a strong risk of infection which could prove fatal in Harry's current weakened condition," Norton explained, calmly. "But depending on the extent of the muscle and nerve damage, Harry could end up with very limited use of his leg. And then there's the fact that because of the open fractures we've had to restrict the blood flow to Harry's leg to keep him from bleeding out. If we wait, Harry will lose his leg anyway. Right now we've stabilized the fractures but the longer we postpone operating the higher the risks."

Petunia closed her eyes. She'd never cared for Harry much. Hell, she never really thought about him at all, really. And now she was supposed to act like his mother? Make a major medical decision that would affect Harry for the rest of his life. What would Lily do in this situation?

Simple… Petunia realized, after a few moments. Lily would do what ever she had to in order to save the life of her son. Just like Petunia would do if it had been Dudley. Opening her eyes Petunia signed her name on the consent form and handed it back. "Take care of my nephew," she said as the doctor hurried out of the room.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A few hours later, while Harry was in surgery, Petunia stood shakily in Vernon's room, staring at her comatose husband. Her marriage had never really been about love. Vernon seemed so very normal and Petunia wanted that. So she and Vernon dated for a while, got married, and had Dudley. And Petunia showered Dudley with all the affection she'd never really got from Vernon.

Standing in the hospital room, Petunia's body ached but her mind was enflamed with rage. How DARE Vernon jeopardize his own son's life! The man was more concerned about his job and his next drink than his family.

"You bastard," Petunia whispered. "You almost killed me, our son… _my_ nephew. You poisoned me against my own sister's child. You hated magic. You made me hate it as well. I could have gotten to know Harry but you pushed him away."

"Mrs. Dursley?" A nurse stood in the doorway. "Are you okay?"

Petunia took one last look at Vernon before turning to the nurse and asking, "Do you know the phone number of a good divorce attorney?"

* * *

If Albus Dumbledore had not been in the habit of buying muggle newspapers it might have been considerably longer before he found out about Harry.

But with Voldemort risen again, muggle papers were the best way to keep up on anything strange enough that muggles would find interesting, but not strange enough that the Ministry of Magic would feel the need to investigate.

It was a hot, humid morning at Hogwarts and Dumbledore stopped skimming through the newspaper when he saw the name 'Dursley' in a brief mention at the back of the Little Whinging newspaper. Reading through the small article Dumbledore stood quickly and grabbed his traveling cloak and headed for Hogsmeade where he could apparate to London and the hospital where Harry now lay injured.

* * *

The last person Petunia expected to see as she stepped in to Dudley's hospital room was Albus Dumbledore. The tall, thin, Hogwarts headmaster stood near Dudley's bed, reading over the boy's chart with interest. "Good afternoon, Petunia. I see you are recovering nicely. I'm glad you were not terribly injured in the car wreck."

"Mum, he says he can help me," Dudley said, quietly. "He said he could use that magic stuff to heal my leg and the cuts from the glass," Dudley added, gesturing to his broken leg and the bandages around his eyes.

"I am prepared to send both your son and Harry to St. Mungo's hospital for magical healing," Dumbledore said, cordially. "The healers there should be able to take care of both boys' injuries in no time."

Petunia didn't know what to say to that but she nodded, giving the headmaster approval to transfer the boys.

"Where," Dumbledore asked, politely. "—is Harry?"

Petunia lay a hand on her son's shoulder and said, "I'll be back in a moment, Dudley." She led Dumbledore upstairs to the surgical floor and just as they were about to go to the surgical waiting room, three doctors came out of an operating room two of whom was leading a gurney upon which lay an unconscious Harry Potter.

"Mrs. Dursley?" the third surgeon said, seeing her standing there.

Petunia watched Harry being taken away to the recovery ward. "How is he?"

"Surgery went fine," the surgeon replied. "Hopefully he'll wake up soon if you wanted to talk to him."

Petunia nodded wordlessly and she and Dumbledore went to the recovery room where Harry was.

Walking up to Harry's hospital bed, Dumbledore noticed that most of Harry's right leg was gone and he looked at Petunia with a raised eye. "You allowed the muggle doctors to amputate Harry's leg?"

Petunia nodded. "The doctors said that the injuries to his leg were bad and could be life-threatening. I didn't have much of a choice, did I?"

"I am not faulting you, Petunia," Dumbledore said, kindly. "Quite the opposite. It seems that you are at last acknowledging Harry as your family."

"I was jealous of Lily for the longest time," Petunia said, looking down at Harry's frail form. "She was special. I wasn't."

"You are special to Harry," Dumbledore replied. "You are the only family he has ever known and while Sirius Black offers Harry a connection to his father, _you_ offer the only consistent connection Harry has to Lily."

"Vernon almost got my own son killed because he was drinking and he drove. He almost killed me, Harry, and Dudley," Petunia said, bitterly. "Even if Dudley will be okay… I don't want Vernon anywhere near us."

"I will do what I can to help," Dumbledore said, simply. "Now let's get Harry and Dudley taken care of, shall we?"

* * *

Lying in his bed in St. Mungo's, Harry wasn't sure what to feel about what had happened to him. Dudley's sight had been saved by some quick healing and the healers had mended the broken leg in no time at all.

Harry, though, was a different story. While the healer had been able to clean up his stump and repair the broken ribs and internal injuries, she'd been unable to regrow Harry's leg. All any of the healers could say was there was some sort of magical block, preventing the limb from being regrown.

"Harry?" Looking up Harry was surprised to see Petunia sitting down in the chair next to his bed. "How are you… considering?"

"Okay," Harry said, dully, lying back against the pillows of his bed. "Considering."

"The healer told me that you'll be up and walking in a few days," Petunia said, trying to be cheerful.

"Yeah, but I won't be playing Quidditch anymore," Harry said, not looking at his aunt. "Who wants a seeker with one leg?"

"I'm sure they'll give you some sort of prosthetic," Petunia replied. "Harry, I'm so sorry for everything I've done to you over the years. I was blinded by Vernon's hatred of magic." Harry rolled over onto his side, facing away from her, but Petunia pressed on. "I don't expect you to forgive me, Harry," Petunia said, morosely. "But if you ever want to talk…"

"You're my mum's sister," Harry said, a sharp edge in his tone. "But you've never considered me family. I don't consider you family either."

Petunia felt like she'd just been slapped in the face but she nodded, getting up and heading for the door. Looking back at her nephew she vowed to try and earn back Harry's trust. No matter what it took.

xxxxxxx

On an unusually cool Thursday morning, Harry found himself sitting in a small physical therapy room and Gail Hart, a young healer with short red hair, was magically fitting him with his new prosthetic leg. Once the fit and height were correct, Gail took Harry's arm and the teenage boy stood carefully. "How's the leg feel?" Gail asked, as she held onto Harry to keep him from falling over.

"Okay… I guess," Harry replied, taking a step forward. He felt a little off balance, but the charms on the prosthetic corrected him and his next step was steadier.

"You should be okay to go home in a day or two," Gail said, walking with Harry around the room. "If you need help let me know. You may need a cane or something for a while, but I think you'll get used to it once you've done a bit more walking with the prosthetic." After a while, Harry asked to sit down and Gail led him to a bench a short ways away. "Harry, if you need to talk about this—"

"I just want to get out of here," Harry said, not meeting Gail's eyes.

xxxxx

"He's withdrawn, he's not really talking to anyone, and he's incredibly moody," Gail said to Dumbledore who had stopped by to check on Harry later that evening.

"It sounds to me as if Harry is behaving like any normal teenager whose life has been drastically changed by a permanent injury," Dumbledore replied.

"Harry needs friends and family with him through this," Gail insisted. "When Petunia Dursley visits, Harry becomes even more withdrawn. He's almost ready to leave. He should go somewhere he feels comfortable."

Dumbledore looked pensive. "I understand. I will arrange for Harry to go someplace other than the Dursleys' home."

"There's one other thing," Gail added as she walked with Dumbledore to the main lobby. "It has to do with the magical blocks on Harry's leg."

Dumbledore stopped, facing the healer with interest. "Blocks are very rare. Don't they usually present in suicidal witches and wizards?"

Gail nodded, wondering if Harry was secretly suicidal. "Usually. But in Harry's case… I think it may be something else."

Dumbledore looked concerned and when he asked Gail what she meant, he noticed the look of regret in her eyes. "What do you suspect?" he asked again.

Gail sighed and finally replied, "I read in a publication once that a healer in France was unable to regrow the arm of a man who'd been in a horrific accident. The wizard in question had a malignant tumor and healers believed that his own magic was preventing the limb from being regrown so as to keep the tumor from being regrown as well." Seeing that Dumbledore was only just following along, she said, simply. "We'd have to test Harry's blood to make sure, but it may be that the reason we can't regrow Harry's leg is that he has cancer."

"How soon will you know if that's the case?" Dumbledore asked, thinking.

"I know a muggle oncologist who works with magical patients," Gail replied. "I'll give him a call. He should be able to get here within the next day or so."

"Please inform me as soon as you know," Dumbledore requested as he and Gail reached the main lobby.

"Certainly," Gail promised before shaking the headmaster's hand. After he'd left, Gail headed out of the hospital as well and to the nearest muggle pay phone to call Dr. Curtis Walden.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The following morning, Dr. Walden arrived and met Gail Martin in what served as St. Mungo's lab. "I thought it would take you longer to get here, Curtis," Gail said as she handed over the vial of blood from Harry Potter and watched as Dr. Walden added three drops of a cloudy liquid to the vial before shaking it.

To Gail's dismay, she saw a numerous amount of fluorescent green specks in the blood sample. "Oh, no," she breathed, looking at Walden. "What do we do now?"

Walden set the blood vial aside and replied, "I'll need to do a bone marrow biopsy and further tests to determine how aggressive the cancer is. Then we'll need to start your patient—"

"Harry," Gail said, wondering how she was going to tell the poor kid about his illness.

"We'll need to start Harry on chemotherapy as soon as possible," Walden finished. "I'll do the biopsy and start running the tests immediately. We should know more in about 48 hours." Seeing the look on Gail's face, he asked, "Have you ever delivered this sort of news to a patient before, Ms. Martin?"

"No," Gail admitted, shaking her head.

Dr. Walden just nodded and after a moment, grabbed his things and said, "Have you ever performed a biopsy before?"

"No," Gail replied again, frowning.

Walden sighed and after a moment said, "No matter. Lead the way to Harry's room, if you please."

Harry was surprised to see Gail Martin come into his room followed by another man with a large travel case. "What's going on?" Harry wanted to know as he sat up in his bed, looking both curious and worried when he saw the looks he was getting.

Gail didn't want to say it but finally, she gestured to Dr. Walden as she said, "Harry, this is Dr. Curtis Walden." After a long hesitation, she added, "He's a muggle oncologist."

Harry felt his brain go numb as he absorbed this news and after a while, he sat up even more. "Uh… You're saying… th-that I…"

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Gail said, quietly. Giving the teenager a moment to take in the news, she looked over at Walden who had set his case on the chair nearby and was pulling equipment out. Turning back to Harry, she said, "We need to do some more tests. Is your aunt around?"

"She's, uh… She's in the tea room upstairs," Harry replied, numbly.

"I'll go let her know what's going on," Gail offered before leaving the room and heading upstairs to the tea room where Petunia was sitting in a corner with a cold cup of tea. "Mrs. Dursley."

Petunia straightened up as Gail sat down across from her looking grave. "Is Harry alright?"

"No," Gail replied, simply. When Petunia looked concerned, Gail elaborated. "We did a test to see if there was a reason we weren't able to regrow Harry's leg. Unfortunately the test showed that Harry has cancer. We're testing now to find out what kind and how advanced it is."

Petunia leaned back in her chair, not sure of what to say. First Harry lost his leg and now this. Leaning forward, she asked, "After you run your tests… what happens to Harry?"

"Dr. Curtis Walden, a muggle oncologist, will be handling Harry's case," Gail replied, outlining things. "He'll be able to tell you more I can." She wanted to assure Petunia that Harry would be okay but she just couldn't find the words.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

In 38 hours, Dr. Walden had the biopsy and blood test results and as he stepped into Harry's room, he noticed that Harry was sitting up in his bed and his aunt was sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. "Harry," Walden said, simply, in greeting. "Mrs. Dursley."

"What's the news?" Harry asked, trying to hide the fact that he felt like he was going to be sick.

Walden closed the door behind him and set Harry's file on the table nearby. "On the upside, Harry, you tested negative for the more serious blood cancers. But I had a fellow oncologist re-examine the x-rays of your right leg and it looks like there was an osteosarcoma, a malignant tumor, growing up your tibia."

"But the doctors took my leg," Harry said, hoping that that was the end of it. "So without the tumor, I'll be fine, right?"

Walden shook hid head, sadly. "I'm afraid not, Harry. Your blood tests still showed malignant cells so you'll be started on a course of chemotherapy in a few days. We'll be inserting a central line to make it easier on you when you receive your treatments via an IV."

Harry nodded, dully, unable to say anything about all this. Petunia, however, looked concerned as she asked, "Will Harry have to stay in the hospital during treatment?"

Walden considered the question for a moment and then shook his head. "No. Arrangements can be made for Harry to come in every three days for treatment."

"H-How long?" Harry asked, wondering about Hogwarts.

"Based on your blood tests," Walden replied. "—we'll start with one full round of chemo treatments which will consist of three cycles." Pulling out two sheets of paper from the file, he handed one to Petunia and the other to Harry. Looking at Harry, he went on. "Each cycle will go for three weeks with a one week between cycles to let your body have a chance to recover. After the first full round, we'll rerun your blood tests and see if you'll need additional rounds of treatment."

"What about side effects?" Harry wanted to know.

Walden shrugged slightly. "Nausea and hair loss are the most common. Chemotherapy drugs basically kill off the damaged cells in your body but they also damage healthy cells as well. Some of the more serious side effects can include mouth sores and anemia." Seeing that Harry looked horrified at what might happen to him, Walden added, "However, as a wizard, you're lucky since your magic will help offset the worst of it."

Harry still felt like this was some horrible dream as Dr. Walden went over further details of the chemo treatments. After a while, though, he started thinking. Why did everything have to happen to _him_?

xxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning, after the central line was inserted into his upper chest, Harry was lying in bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling when Dumbledore walked into to the room with Molly Weasley in tow. "Harry," Dumbledore said in greeting.

"What?" Harry said, grumpily, not even bothering to turn and look at the headmaster although periodically, he'd reach a hand up and start fussing at the IV port.

"I've spoken to your healers and Dr. Walden," Dumbledore said, trying to sound cheerful. "You are set to leave this afternoon,"

"Fine," Harry said, flatly still staring at the ceiling. _'I'm just going to be coming back here in a day or two anyway,'_ he thought, miserably.

"I thought you might want to know," Dumbledore added. "—that you will not be going home with your aunt, as I have made other arrangements."

"Whatever," Harry replied, not even really listening as he lay lost in his own thoughts.

"You will be staying with Professor Snape and the Malfoys for the duration of your summer holidays," Dumbledore said, a smirk on his face and a twinkle in his eye. "And I made arrangement for you to receive private lessons from Voldemort himself on the Unforgivable Curses."

"Okay. I… What?" Harry finally sat up and turned to look at Dumbledore. What did Dumbledore just say about Voldemort, Snape and the Malfoys?

"I did hope that would capture your attention," Dumbledore said, smiling. "Don't worry, Harry. I will not be sending you to Snape. Rather, you will be going to a secret location in London accompanied by Molly."

Harry gave Mrs. Weasley a small, half-hearted smile and Molly had the sense that it was probably Harry's first smile all summer. "We'll be traveling by Apparation, Harry," Molly explained. "Dumbledore has already collected your things and sent them along."

Harry tried not to think of Dumbledore's impression of his messy room back at #4 Privet Drive but as he felt the IV port itching a bit, he frowned as he asked, "Does everyone know about… you know… that I lost my leg? Or about… about my being sick?"

Molly hesitated for a moment before she shook her head. "I didn't know until the other day what was going on," she finally replied. "Dumbledore just told me that you were in St. Mungo's. When I asked why, he told me the details." After another pause, she added, "I thought you might want to tell the others yourself."

"Molly will be making sure you come to St. Mungo's for your chemotherapy treatments," Dumbledore assured Harry. "Once at Hogwarts, I will arrange a private suite for you so you need not go to the Hospital Wing for treatment."

Harry just nodded, thankful that both Dumbledore and Mrs. Weasley were trying to help him with what was going on. But at the same time, he hated that they were making such a fuss over him.


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTES: One quick thing I feel I should explain. The word 'hypersalivating' may or may not be a technical term, but it's what usually happens to me before I end up puking. Basically, I'm talking about seriously heavy saliva levels

Chapter 2

* * *

Hermione Granger had been worrying about her best friend, Harry Potter, for the past few months. As a child she had read her parents' medical journals enough to spot when someone was hiding some serious physical ailment. At first, Harry just seemed tired—not surprising given his involvement in the Triwizard Tournament—but then other things kept popping up like the slight limp Harry had as Hermione watched him head out of the train station with the Dursleys at the end of the school year. Or how Harry seemed to be losing weight, even with the luxury of Hogwarts feasts.

When she heard Harry was in St. Mungo's Hospital, Hermione felt certain that whatever was wrong with Harry had finally shown itself. But she was still unprepared for when she finally Harry a few weeks before his birthday

xxxxxxxxx

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had spent the past few hours cleaning out the drawing room of #12 Grimmauld Place when the door slowly creaked open. Turning to see who had arrived, they were surprised and delighted to see Harry standing there and, at first, didn't even notice how thin and pale Harry looked.

"Harry, what happened?" Hermione asked, after a moment as she took in that Harry was leaning on crutches and looked like Hell.

"Uncle Vernon was driving drunk and crashed the car," Harry said, heading to a chair against the nearest wall. He sat down slowly and watched as Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stood next to him, eager to hear what had happened. Not really wanting to share in all the horrific details, Harry added, simply, "He's in a coma… Aunt Petunia's filing for divorce because Dudley got hurt in the crash."

Ginny sat on the arm of Harry's chair and looked at him. "What about you, Harry?" she asked, looking concerned as she studied Harry up close.

Harry sighed and pulled up the right leg of his jeans, revealing the plastic prosthetic.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, sadly, looking at her best friend. "I'm so sorry. How much of it did they take?"

"About halfway up my thigh," Harry replied as he lowered his pant leg.

"They chopped your leg off?" Ron said, shocked.

"It was the muggle doctors," Harry explained, trying to ignore Ron's tone. "Even Dumbledore agreed that amputation was the best choice."

"Yeah, but how are you going to play Quidditch?" Ron asked.

"Ron, shut up!" Ginny snapped, glaring at her brother. "You're so insensitive!"

But Harry had gotten up and was now heading out of the room and up the stairs to the bedroom Mrs. Weasley had told him he would be staying in. Sitting down on the bed nearest the window, Harry tried to shrug off the doubts that filled his mind. But he couldn't deny that Ron had brought up a valid point. Harry most likely _would_ have to give up playing Quidditch this year—not because of the loss of his leg, but due to the chemotherapy treatments.

"Potter." Hearing his name, Harry looked up as Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody clomped into the room and sat on the other bed in the room. "Dumbledore told me about what happened."

"Everything?" Harry asked, curiously. When Moody nodded, Harry tried to shrug it off. "It's…" But he couldn't even think the words: "It's okay. I'm fine." Because in truth, Harry far from okay and he felt anything but fine.

"It's awful, isn't it?" Moody said, a note of understanding in his voice.

"Yeah, it is," Harry said, nodding. "And Ron was just…"

"It's hard to understand unless it's happened to you," Moody said, gruffly. Standing up, he patted Harry on the shoulder. "You'll be just fine, Potter. Just keep at it."

"Thanks," Harry said, feeling a little better.

"Anytime, Potter," Moody replied, with what might have been a smile. Heading out of the room, Moody saw Hermione Granger coming up the stairs and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Potter's in there. Think he could use a friend to talk to, Granger."

Hermione nodded as she entered the bedroom just as Harry was rubbing a spot on his chest. "Harry, what's going on?" She asked as she closed the door and sat on the other bed, facing Harry. "I know it's not just your leg. What else is going on?"

Harry let out a long sigh and after a while, he pulled down the neck of his t-shirt, exposing the central line. When he readjusted his shirt, Harry expected Hermione to say something but she just sat there, dumbfounded. "Hermione, it's…"

"It's what?" Hermione said, finally finding her voice. "Not as bad as it looks?" Her look of astonishment gave way realization and in a lower tone, she said, "You didn't lose your leg just because of the crash, did you?"

Harry shook his head and after another sigh, he figured Hermione deserved to know the whole story. "I didn't know about the cancer until after the doctors amputated my leg," he explained. "The healers at St. Mungo's couldn't regrow my leg so they ran some tests."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione whispered as she stood and moved over to Harry's bed, giving him a hug. As Harry hugged her back, thankful for the comfort from his best friend.

* * *

Petunia Dursley understood why Harry didn't want to come back to Privet Drive but she was hurt that Harry wasn't even giving her a chance to make up for the past 14 years.

But maybe that was because there really was no way to make up for all Harry had been through, all the times she'd turned a blind eye to Vernon's abuse… her son's violence… For the longest time, Petunia looked the other way when Vernon treated Harry roughly. After all, she had only let Harry stay in the house because of the blood protection Dumbledore had enacted.

And Dudley… Looking back on it now, Petunia realized that her own son was another case in which she should have been paying more attention. At St. Mungo's, one of the healers had given Dudley something which had helped him drop the bulk of his excess weight and now Dudley was working on building muscle as a local athletic center. But Petunia should never have allowed her son to gain so much weight. And she should have listened when the teachers at school called Dudley a bully. Hopefully, now that both of them were away from Vernon, Petunia could try to instill in her son a kinder nature.

And there had to be away to get Harry to open up to her. Something to show him that although they'd had their differenced, Petunia wanted to help Harry through his recent tribulations.

Heading up to the attic of #4 Privet Drive, Petunia rummaged around for ages until she finally unearthed two old photo albums. After giving them a very thorough cleaning to remove the collected dust and grime, she wrapped them up and set to writing Harry a letter.

'_Dear Harry,_

_I know you probably don't want to hear from me but I'm going to keep writing you anyway. What Vernon and I did to you all those years in inexcusable. I wish we could start over, but all I can do is ask you to give me a chance. _

_With this letter I am including Lily's pictures from before Hogwarts._

_Please write back,_

_Petunia Evans_

* * *

The albums had arrived just as Harry returned to #12 Grimmauld Place from his first chemotherapy treatment. After spending more than half an hour in the bathroom throwing up what felt like everything he'd eaten in the past week, Harry rinsed his mouth out and headed into his bedroom to find Hedwig perched on the desk in the corner and the wrapped package on his bed.

After lying down on his bed, Harry stared at the albums his aunt had sent for a moment and finally opened them, looking at the photos inside. There were pictures of Lily as a baby… when she lost her first tooth… her first day of primary school.

In some of the earlier pictures, Lily and Petunia actually seemed to be friendly as they played together. But as the girls aged, Harry could see that there were fewer pictures of the sisters together and more of them separately.

Why had Petunia waited until now to start embracing Harry as her nephew, Harry wondered as he closed the albums and lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling—something he'd been doing a lot lately. It was too late for Petunia to try and be his family now. Still… she was the last connection Harry had to his mother. And he wasn't ready to cut that bond just yet.

Turning his head to look at Petunia's letter which was lying on the bedside table, Harry couldn't help but wonder why Petunia had used her maiden name. Because she wanted Harry to believe her words? Or because she had wanted to cut herself off from Uncle Vernon?

"Mind if I come in, Harry?"

Sitting up, Harry saw Mrs. Weasley standing in the doorway. "Mrs. Weasley. Did you need help with something?"

"That's alright, Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, waving a hand dismissively. "You're recovering. No, I wanted to talk to you about your aunt."

Harry's face clouded over. "Oh," he said, and looked away.

"Harry, your aunt sent me a letter," Mrs. Weasley said, sitting at the foot of Harry's bed "She wants to be here for your birthday. I won't invite her if you don't want me to," she added, watching Harry's face. "But I think it would be a good chance for the two of you to start over."

"Whatever," Harry said, lying back down. "I don't care. Go ahead."

Mrs. Weasley stood and left the room without another word. She wanted Harry to be back to his old self. But it seemed that the loss of his leg, not to mention the complication of his illness, had sapped Harry of most emotion. Not that she didn't understand in a way. Cancer was a scary diagnosis for anyone, but to find out while dealing with a permanent injury… But Molly wanted to help Harry. If only there was some way to cheer him up…

"Is Harry still in his room, Molly?" asked Sirius Black as he came up the stairs, looking at the closed bedroom door.

Mrs. Weasley nodded. She remembered shortly before Harry's arrival as Dumbledore explained Harry's situation to Sirius. Harry's godfather hadn't said much and Molly could tell that he was trying to think of how to talk to his godson about it. But sensing that right now Harry needed comfort from the closest thing he had to a father, Molly said, "He's not feeling very social right now, poor dear… But you're welcome to try and cheer him up, Sirius. Goodness knows if you can't get through to the boy I doubt anyone can."

Sirius nodded and went to Harry's room, hesitating a moment before opening the door to see his godson lying on his bed. "Sorry I haven't been to see you much, Harry," Sirius said, walking into the room and sitting at the foot of Harry's bed.

"'S fine," Harry muttered. "Who wants to be around a cancer-ridden cripple anyway?"

"It's not just that," Sirius said, staring hard at his godson. After a while, he sighed. "Harry, you're all I have left of James and Lily. Right now, you're all I care about. And I'm scared to death that I'm going to lose you, too. I'm just trying to deal with all this, Prongslet, alright?" When Harry gave him the slightest nod, Sirius added, "By the way, Molly told me about the letter from your aunt."

"After all this time she decides she wants to be my family?" Harry said, bitterly, sitting up a bit. "What about when I was little and I needed her to be there for me? All those times I wanted her approval… her love? She can't just suddenly demand to be a part of my life."

"You don't think it could have been because of the accident and the fact that you're sick?" Sirius asked, resting a hand on Harry's artificial leg. "If you're gone, Petunia loses her last connection to Lily. You're the one reminder Petunia sees every day. The one she can't ignore, no matter how much she may want to."

Harry scoffed. "She sure has tried to pretend I don't exist over the years."

"Petunia can pretend," Sirius said, kindly. "But she can't deny that you do exist. She opened her home to you. Unwillingly, maybe… but she still let you in. Maybe that's all she could do because of your uncle."

Harry gave a shrug. "Maybe."

Sirius stood and smiled down at Harry. "Come on. Your friends want to see you."

Harry didn't really want to see the others right now. Truthfully, he didn't want to see anyone right now. There was so much with his life right now that his friends just couldn't understand. But after a while, he slowly sat up and once he was standing, Harry let Sirius help him out into the hallway and slowly down the stairs finally coming to the drawing room where Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny Weasley were working on cleaning out a glass fronted cabinet with Mrs. Weasley and Ginny.

They all turned when they heard Harry enter the room. Ginny gave him a warm smile which he returned. Looking at his friends, Harry asked, "Need a hand, Mrs. Weasley?"

Molly looked like she was about to say no, but seeing the miniscule shake of the head from Sirius as he stood behind Harry, she nodded and said, brightly, "We're just cleaning this cabinet out, Harry. Just start chucking into the sacks on the floor."

Harry nodded and limped over to the cabinet and started cleaning with the others. It actually felt good to be doing something. It took his mind off the other issues.

* * *

Early on the morning of Harry's 15th birthday, Petunia Dursley arrived at Grimmauld Place with three large shopping bags. Mrs. Weasley led Harry's aunt down to the kitchen and helped her unload Harry's gifts and an abundance of groceries. "I… I wasn't sure what Harry liked as far as meals," Petunia admitted as she unloaded eggs, bacon, sausages, bread, fresh fruit, lunch meats, cheese, packages of chips and pastas and a myriad of other items. "Although I'm not sure how much of an appetite he has these days."

Molly smiled kindly at Petunia. "I've been trying to get Harry to eat a bit more at meals, but he's just not really hungry these days, as you can imagine. Lately for breakfast Harry just likes some toast and juice. If Harry's having a chemo treatment he usually just has some applesauce for lunch. I try to get Harry to eat a good dinner, but sometimes he'll just take half a sandwich up to his room."

Petunia nodded as she started putting the groceries away, leaving out what she needed for her breakfast casserole. Once it was assembled and in the oven, Petunia turned to Molly and after a while—feeling somewhat ashamed for doing it—she said, "Tell me about Harry. What… What's he like?"

Molly sat down at the table, hiding the fact that she was pleased that Petunia was taking an interest in her nephew at last. "Harry's a very quiet boy. He doesn't buy into the whole 'Boy Who Lived' business. He likes a simple, quiet life."

Petunia sat down as well, still facing Molly Weasley. "What else?"

Molly smiled. Harry was as good as her own son and she was happy that Petunia was finally starting to see what she saw: a wonderful boy with endless potential. "I don't know if you know this, but Harry's also very stubborn. And determined."

"Lily was the same way," Petunia said, quietly, thinking back. "Once she set her mind to something it would take forever to get her to let go."

"Harry's also very selfless," Molly added. "He's usually more concerned about the safety of whomever he's with rather than his own. His second year he went after my daughter Ginny and saved her life risking his own. He saved my youngest son, Ron, from dementors year before last."

As Petunia sat lost in thought, she saw images of Harry at the Weasleys' home, free and happy… "I wish Dumbledore had sent Harry to you when he was a baby," Petunia admitted. "Then he could have had the childhood he was meant to.

"Dumbledore knew what he was doing," Molly said, to Petunia's amazement. "Sometimes growing up in adversity is what makes us stronger. My family may not have much, but what we lack in money we make up for in family bonds."

"That's why I divorced Vernon," Petunia admitted. "I love my son more than anything in the world. And Vernon almost took that away from me. He almost took Harry as well."

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat and Molly and Petunia looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway. He wasn't wearing the prosthetic and had therefore rolled up the empty leg of his jeans. Leaning on the crutches the healers had given him while he adjusted to the artificial leg he looked helpless and worn, like a refugee from a terrible war. His hair, usually messy and sticking up in back, looked thin. Petunia wondered if the cancer treatments were already causing Harry to lose his hair.

Molly stood up and gestured for Harry to have a seat at the table. "How are you feeling this morning, dear?"

Harry shrugged as he sat down and looked at Mrs. Weasley. "Fine, I guess. The, uh… prosthetic was feeling a little weird and I… I-I thought I'd leave it off just for today."

"No problem, Harry, dear," Molly said, bustling around the kitchen and making tea and using her wand to make a huge bag of oranges juice themselves into a large pitcher.

"Happy birthday, Harry," Petunia said, smiling lightly.

"Thanks, Aunt Petunia," Harry said, a corner of his mouth twitching in what could have been a smile.

"I, uh… brought a few presents," Petunia said, trying to keep any uncomfortable silences from settling on the room.

"Really?" Harry said, noticing the small pile of packages at one end of the table. For some reason, it surprised him that his aunt would show that much consideration.

Petunia got up and slid the pile towards Harry who pulled a small package off of the top. "Dudley actually sent that one along for you."

Harry's brow furrowed in puzzlement, but he opened the package and laughed. Inside was a small scrap of paper which read: _'This entitles the holder to one free shot at the sender.'_

Petunia read over Harry's shoulder and frowned. "He said you'd get a 'kick' out of it," Petunia said, disapprovingly. "I didn't think he'd mean literally."

"I doubt I'll use it," Harry said, but he stuffed the note into his pocket anyway.

The rest of the gifts included new muggle clothes, a new waterproof watch, and a few other items.

After about an hour, the smells of the casserole wafted out of the kitchen and soon Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, Sirius, and Tonks were seated at the table digging into breakfast as Molly and Petunia prepared toast, coffee, tea, and orange juice.

Harry was content to just nibble one or two pieces of toast but Petunia gave him just a tiny bit of the breakfast casserole she'd prepared. It wasn't that Harry wasn't hungry—actually, this morning he felt ravenous—but lately if he ate too much in the morning, he usually ended up in the bathroom throwing up shortly thereafter. But the casserole did smell good and after a moment Harry took a small bite, surprised when he didn't feel his stomach revolting at the extra food.

"Harry, I was wondering about something," Ron said around a mouthful of eggs and sausage. When Harry looked up, Ron asked, "Any idea who you want to take over as seeker this year?"

The cheery atmosphere vanished so rapidly that there might as well have been a dementor outside the kitchen.

Ginny and Hermione both kicked Ron hard under the table and Fred and George glared at their younger brother.

Harry didn't reply, but he turned to Mrs. Weasley and said, "I'm pretty full. Do you mind if I…?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded and watched Harry hobble out of the kitchen. Once he was out of earshot, she turned her most intimidating gaze on Ron. "Ronald Weasley, I can't believe you'd even THINK to ask the poor boy that! First Harry is in a horrible accident and then you tactlessly ask who's replacing him in Quidditch!"

"Besides," Hermione said, glaring at Ron as well. "Who says that Harry has to quit at all?"

"Hermione's right," Ginny said, kicking Ron again for good measure. "Just because Harry lost his leg doesn't mean he can't still play."

"Ginny, have you _ever_ heard of a one-legged Quidditch player?" Ron said, insistently. After a while, he sighed. "Look, we're all thinking it. I just said it out loud."

"I can't believe you call yourself Harry's friend, Ron," Hermione said, angrily, as she stood up. "You should be encouraging Harry, not making him feel worse." She stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.

Feeling that he needed to explain himself, Ron looked at the others. "Look, if it were just the fact that Harry lost his leg it would be one thing," he said. "But what about Harry's chemotherapy treatments?"

Molly started to say something but she stopped as she realized that Ron had a point. Even Ginny and the twins looked like they were slightly in agreement.

Sensing that Ron needed someone in his corner, Tonks nodded, sadly. "You're right, Ron." Looking at the others, she added, "Look, we all knew things would be different with Harry because of the cancer."

"Fine," Ginny said with a sigh. Shooting her brother a look, she added, "I still say it was an insensitive thing to do, though."

xx

Up in his bedroom, Harry had resumed his usual position of lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He hated all of this: he hated that he lost his leg, he hated having cancer, he hated that the disease was costing him the one thing that might have actually made him happy at Hogwarts this year.

Hearing the door creak open, Harry looked up preparing to tell Ron off. Instead, he saw Hermione looking hesitant.

"Mind if I come in, Harry?" She asked, her tone indicating that she'd leave if Harry didn't want to be disturbed.

"Sure," Harry replied, flatly, as he sat up. "I thought you were Ron."

"It's just me," Hermione replied as she closed the door and sat down on the other bed, giving her best friend a shy smile. "Harry, I… I want to ask you something." When Harry gave her a curious look, Hermione felt herself blush. "I was wondering… That is I…"

Catching Hermione's glance at what was left of his leg, Harry understood what she was afraid to ask. Checking to make sure the door was closed, Harry pulled his jeans off so he sat in his boxer shorts.

Hermione tried not to react at seeing what was left of Harry's leg, but she couldn't stop the small gasp that escaped her. And somehow, thinking of the IV port Harry had shown her before and now seeing the stump that was all that was left of Harry's leg made his condition seem startlingly real. "Harry, I'm so sorry. I wish I could do something… anything to help you with all this."

Harry pulled his jeans back on. "There's nothing you can do. The healers couldn't grow my leg back because of the osteosarcoma. And I have another two months of chemotherapy treatments." When he reached up to rub a knot in his neck, he felt some of his hair come away in his hand. After a moment, he felt himself hypersalivating and his stomach gave a violent lurch.

Hermione could tell that Harry was about to be sick and she grabbed the small trash can nearby and handed it to Harry just as he threw up. Sitting next to him, Hermione put an arm around Harry's shoulders until he was done vomiting. Once Harry was done, she pulled out her wand to vanish the contents of the trashcan before getting him a cup of water from the bathroom to wash his mouth out.

As Harry lay back down on the bed, he looked over at Hermione and said, "Hermione, I think I'm going to take a nap. Do you mind… uh…?"

Hermione nodded and got up to leave. Before she left, she turned to Harry and said, "I'm here for you, Harry. We all are. You're not alone in this."

* * *

Despite the best efforts of everyone in Grimmauld Place—including Fred and George—Harry continued to be withdrawn and moody, spending most of his time—when he wasn't at the hospital for his treatments—either in his room staring at the ceiling or reading his new school books.

A few days before the start of term, Molly and Arthur Weasley were talking with Dumbledore about Harry's return to Hogwarts. "I don't like the idea of Harry going back when he's so moody," Molly said. "Hermione and Ginny are trying to help but Ron… I know he means well, but he's not helping Harry."

"We just want to make sure that when Harry goes back he's not bombarded with queries about what happened both last term and over the summer," Arthur said, simply. "Harry should be with his friends, but he should have some private place he can go."

"I already have the solution," Dumbledore replied. "I have already made arrangements for Harry to have his own private suite. Yet it would be connected to the Gryffindor common room if Harry desired company. I've also spoken with healers from St. Mungo's who will be able to ensure that Harry receives all of the chemotherapy treatments."

"Thank you, Dumbledore," Molly said, brightly. "I've been worrying my head off about Harry since he got hurt and his illness has only made things harder for him."

"I assure you, Molly, I will take extra care to keep Harry out of harm's way this year," Dumbledore said, solemnly.

* * *

Arriving early at Platform 9 ¾ the morning of September 1st, Harry limped as far back on the train as he could go, taking an empty compartment for himself while Fred, George, and Ginny went to find their friends, and Ron and Hermione went to sit in the prefects' compartment.

Things hadn't been much better the past month and Harry's chemo treatments had been taking a fierce toll on him. He was losing more of his hair and there were times when the mere smell of food sent him hurrying for the bathroom. Lost in his own thoughts, Harry wasn't even aware that anyone had come to his compartment until he heard the door close and a dreamy voice said, "Do you mind if I join you?"

Looking up, Harry saw a teenage girl with dirty blonde hair pulled back in a braid and large eyes staring at him. "Uh… yeah, sure," Harry said, gesturing to the seat across from him.

"You're Harry Potter, aren't you?" The girl said as she sat down, happily. "I read that you were in a car accident this summer," she added, glancing at the cane Harry had brought with him. "Didn't the muggle doctors amputate your leg?"

Harry looked out the window, not feeling up to talking. Talk about losing his leg would probably lead to conversation of how sick he looked and he didn't feel up to it at the moment.

"Oh," the girl said, understandingly. "It's a sensitive issue, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry said, vacantly. After a moment, though, curiosity got the better of him. "Um… who are you?"

"Luna Lovegood," the girl replied, smiling.

"You're not in Gryffindor, are you?" Harry asked, not remembering seeing her in Gryffindor Tower.

Luna shook her head. "Ravenclaw. I'm a 4th year with Ginny Weasley." Harry gave Luna a smile and saw out the window that more and more people were boarding the train. "Are you eager to play Quidditch again this year?" Luna asked, watching Harry closely. Harry looked at her, slightly surprised. "Oh," Luna said, looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay," Harry said, quickly. Seeing that there was no way around the subject now, he said, "I'm… I'm not playing this year."

"Why not?" Luna wanted to know. "You lost your leg, not your ability to fly."

"It's not that," Harry replied, trying to explain. "Well, it's not _just_ because of my leg." Looking at Luna, he was a little surprised at her expression, as if she was just calmly waiting for Harry to finish talking. "For at least the next month and a half, I'm going to be receiving chemotherapy treatments."

Luna gave Harry a serene smile of understanding. She knew Harry was sick the moment she saw him and while she didn't know much about non-magical diseases, she did have a cousin who survived cancer and Luna remembered how hard it was on her cousin. "It must be terrible for you," Luna mused. When she sensed that Harry believed that she was talking about his disease, she went on. "Ginny told me how much you love playing Quidditch. I can't imagine how hard it must be to give up something you love."

There was something about Luna that made Harry think that she understood him in a way that even Hermione was unable to. As the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station Harry said, "Sometimes I don't know what's worse. Waiting for Voldemort to do me in… or waiting for the cancer to do the job."

"What if you don't die?" Luna asked, lightly. "What if you defeat You-Know-Who _and_ the cancer?"

Harry didn't say anything, but he thought about Luna's question. He really _hadn't _thought about his future ever since his diagnosis. And the more he thought about it, the more Harry had to admit that Luna had brought up an excellent question. "I dunno. Ever since I found out I was sick, I just stopped thinking about what might happen if I make it through this." After a moment, he gave Luna a smile. "You're good at the advice thing."

Luna smiled back at Harry as she pulled a magazine out of her bag, turning it upside down. "Not many people listen to me, really" Luna said, quietly. "They think I'm a bit strange, you know. People even call me 'Loony' Lovegood."

Harry looked surprised at that. "There's nothing wrong with being a little different," he said, fondly. Catching a glimpse of his reflection in the window, he added, "I should know." It was slightly odd how easy he found talking to Luna and he said so.

"Thank you, Harry," Luna said, smiling. "I'm glad you like talking to me."

"Well, you seem nice and friendly," Harry said, blushing slightly. "Right now I could use another friend in my corner."

"I'd be delighted to be your friend, Harry Potter," Luna said, giving Harry a warm smile.

* * *

When the Hogwarts Express finally pulled into Hogsmeade Station, night had fallen and the lanterns were lit at the station.

Harry limped off the train, leaning on the cane he'd brought with him for support. He was feeling tired despite a long nap on the train and wanted nothing more that to get to Hogwarts and go up to Gryffindor Tower and get into bed. After a moment, he felt someone take his arm and turning to look, he saw Luna who seemed to have a spring in her step. Walking down the platform, Luna and Harry finally joined up with Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George and they started walking to the open carriages which would take them up to Hogwarts.

To Harry's amazement, the carriages—which up until now had pulled themselves—were now pulled by strange, black, skeletal winged horses. "They're called thestrals," Luna said, walking up to one and pulling a dead mouse out of the pocket of her robes. One of the thestrals bent down its head and took the treat from Luna's hand as gently as a horse eating a sugar cube. "They can only be seen by someone who has seen death."

Harry thought for a moment about Cedric Diggory lying on the ground in the cemetery, dead. Shaking his head as he tried not to think about that horrible night, Harry looked up at the thestral and found as scary as they were, there was also something hauntingly beautiful about them.

"What happen to you, Potter?" a snide voice called and Harry winced as Draco Malfoy came up followed by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Harry said, turning to get up in the carriage with the others. He truly didn't feel like getting into it with Malfoy right now, but before Harry could get into the carriage, Malfoy darted in front of him and stuck out a foot, catching Harry's prosthetic and making him fall flat on his face.

Malfoy and his cronies laughed as Harry lay on the ground, trying to catch his breath. Goyle kicked Harry in the left shin to try and keep him down but when Harry didn't react, Malfoy nudged Harry's leg with his own foot. "A prosthetic?" Malfoy said, delighted. "You lost your leg? Brilliant! They might as well just give me the Quidditch cup now! Harry Potter is a bloody cripple!" Malfoy added, loudly, as he, Crabbe, and Goyle headed for their own carriage. "This is too rich!"

Hermione and Ron helped Harry to his feet and once in the carriage, Hermione said, "You should see Madame Pomfrey, Harry."

Harry shook his head, firmly. "I'm seeing her tomorrow, Hermione. It can wait. I just want to get some sleep."

"You've got a treatment tomorrow?" Ron asked, stunned by the news. "What about classes?"

"I'll make a copy of my notes for you, Harry," Hermione promised.

Ron stiffened a bit and frowned at that. "Why don't you ever offer to make _me_ a copy of your notes?" he asked.

"Fine," Hermione replied, coolly. "When you have cancer and miss classes for chemotherapy treatments, you can have a copy of my notes."

Ron opened his mouth to retort but seeing how bad Harry looked he just muttered under his breath, "Never mind."


	3. Chapter 3

AUTHOR'S NOTES: In this rewrite I want to keep the relationship with Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley although in _this_ version Draco will be taking a different approach with courting Ginny.

CHAPTER 3

* * *

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was a buzz with conversation and rumors when Harry and his friends finally sat down at the Gryffindor table. Harry had just wanted to go to bed, but Hermione and the Weasleys insisted he should at least try to eat something. As Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table, it seemed as though everyone in the room knew about his condition, either because they'd heard Malfoy earlier or—in the case of the muggleborns—had read about the car accident in the local muggle newspapers.

There were a lot of people watching Harry and as he subtly looked around he noticed that a lot of the stares came from the girls.

"Ginny, why are all the girls staring at me?" Harry asked as Dumbledore stood, preparing to make his start of term speech.

"No idea," Ginny, said, exchanging a look with Hermione before both girls started giggling.

But when Harry gave Hermione a puzzled look, she just gave him a warm smile and an 'I'll explain later' wave.

"As many of you know," Dumbledore was saying to the students. "We once again welcome a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Harry turned his attention to the staff table and was surprised and delighted to see Nymphadora Tonks sitting next to Hagrid. "Please welcome Professor Tonks."

Tonks stood, accidentally knocking her goblet over which was thankfully empty.

After a few notices including mention of Quidditch try-outs, the platters of food appeared and although he didn't feel hungry, Harry still took a roll and a small helping of mashed potatoes.

xxxxxx

After dinner, before Harry headed out of the Great Hall and up to Gryffindor Tower, he heard Dumbledore call his name. Heading over to the staff table, Dumbledore pulled Harry aside and said, "I have arranged for you to have a private suite this year, Harry." At Harry's confused look, the headmaster explained. "I thought it the best way to allow you a little privacy given what has happened to you this past summer. And this way you won't need to come to the Hospital Wing for the remainder of your treatments. Also, I would like you to start coming to my office on Saturday evenings for private lessons a bit later in the year."

"Where is this private room, sir?" Harry asked.

As Tonks started to head past them, Dumbledore smiled as he called out to her. "Oh, Nymphadora…"

Tonks looked like she was trying not to react to the use of her first name but her pink hair quickly changed to bright red. "Yes, sir?"

"Would you be so kind as to show Harry the room I have arranged for him?" Dumbledore asked, politely.

"Sure!" Tonks replied, brightly as she smiled at Harry. "Wait till you see it!" She said, heading out of the Great Hall with Harry in tow. They took a few shortcuts and finally arrived at Gryffindor Tower. Once in the common room, Tonks led Harry to a tapestry on the wall of a dog, a stag, and a wolf gathered around a willow. "Sirius came up with this bit," Tonks explained, grinning. "He also said you'd know how to get in. 'Like closing the Map', he said."

Harry nodded knowingly and raised his wand, tapping the cloth. "Mischief managed," he said, clearly.

The stag bowed its head before running into the tree followed by the dog and wolf. Then the tapestry pulled aside, revealing a doorway. Harry limped inside and torches sprang to life, lighting a pleasant room decorated in Gryffindor colors. A desk was in a corner and there were a few armchairs flanking a stone fireplace on one side of the room while a four poster bed stood on the other side. "This is… It's wonderful," Harry said, looking at Tonks. "I love it. Thank you."

"If you want to talk to Sirius," Tonks added, nodding at the desk. "There's a gift from him in the desk drawer."

"My trunk and everything?" Harry asked, walking towards the bed.

Tonks pointed to the end of the bed. "There at the foot of the bed."

Harry nodded and turned to Tonks. "Thanks again. And tell Dumbledore thanks as well."

"Sure thing, Harry," she replied, leaving the room. "See you tomorrow in class."

"Er…" Harry looked away as he thought about tomorrow.

Tonks seemed to realize what she'd said and frowned slightly. "Sorry, Harry.

"It's fine," Harry said, quietly, before saying good night and went to his trunk and pulled pajamas out before changing out of his school uniform and getting ready for bed.

* * *

Petunia Dursley stood in Vernon's hospital room and tried to brace herself for the screaming match ahead.

Vernon was awake.

And he'd just been handed the divorce papers.

"What the hell is this?" Vernon snapped, reading over the document, glaring at his wife.

"You almost killed our son," Petunia said, calmly, yet firmly. "You were more concerned with your next drink than the life of our own child. And what you did to Harry—"

"Who gives a damn about that freaky brat!" Vernon said, coldly. "The boy's nothing but trouble."

"I care about him," Petunia replied. "I care about him because, like it or not, he _is_ my nephew. He's Lily's son, and it's time I started treating him like what he is: my family."

"I'll fight you for custody of Dudley," Vernon said, trying to get Petunia to drop the matter. "You want the brat, fine. But Dudley's coming with me."

Petunia held out a second document, glaring back at Vernon. "I've already been given sole custody of Dudley… and Harry. And I get the house as well."

Vernon lunged at his wife but a nurse quickly stepped in as Petunia quickly backed up against the wall.

"I need a sedative STAT!" The nurse screamed as she tried to keep Vernon Dursley in bed. Three orderlies grabbed the violent man and another nurse quickly injected him with a sedative. After a while, Vernon stopped struggling and went limp.

"When he comes to," Petunia said, trying to control her heart rate. "…tell him if he signs the divorce papers I won't personally press assault and abuse charges." Turning, she left the room and headed back home to Privet Drive.

* * *

The next morning, after using the bathroom, Harry started to put on his prosthetic when he heard knocking coming from the entrance to the room. "Come in," he said, hesitantly.

The tapestry moved to the side and a tall witch with long brown hair pulled back in a braid entered the room with a medical bag and a case approximately 4 feet long. "Morning, Harry," she said, with a light smile. Coming in and setting the case and bag on the desk nearby, she turned to Harry before she went on. "I'm Dr. Anna Rion. Yes, I am a witch, but the past 10 years I've been working as a muggle doctor." Pulling out her wand, she opened up the medical bag and withdrew a full-size IV stand.

Realizing what Anna Rion was there for, Harry set the prosthetic aside and made sure he was settled comfortably on the bed as Anna set up the IV stand next to the bed before grabbing the large case and bringing it over to the bed before opening it. The prosthetic leg in the case was plastic at the top where Harry would put what was left of his leg but the rest of the prosthetic was metal. "Dr. Rion?" Harry asked, a little puzzled.

"The old, plastic models aren't really good for anything," Anna explained as she removed the new leg from the case along with a nylon sock and a silicone liner with a small peg at the end. "This model will give you more mobility. There are also cushioning charms to make it more comfortable."

Harry just nodded as Anna showed him how to put on and take off the new prosthetic. In truth he was grateful that it would be easier for him to walk but right now he didn't really want to walk anywhere. He hated feeling like he was going to pass out all the time.

"Harry?" Anna said, looking concerned as she connected the IV to Harry's port. "You okay?"

"Tired," Harry muttered, leaning back against his pillows and wishing he could actually get a good night's sleep for once.

Anna studied Harry for a moment and then pulled a syringe out of her bag. "Harry, I want to run some blood tests. You might be developing a severe case of anemia."

"O-okay," Harry said, hesitantly. As he watched Anna drawing his blood, he asked, "If I am anemic?"

Anna put the blood vial back in her bag and replied, "If the anemia isn't too bad we'll start you on iron supplements. If it's more serious then we'll have to start you on packed red cell transfusions in addition to the chemotherapy treatments."

Harry let out a long sigh as he titled his head back. "Wonderful," he said, dejectedly.

As she packed up her things, Anna gave Harry a sympathetic look. "No one ever said this would be easy, Harry." After a moment, she sat on the edge on the bed and waited until Harry looked at her. "When I was at Hogwarts, I was friends with a boy who had cancer. Chemotherapy wasn't as advanced back then so it was even harder on him than it is on you."

"Is he still alive?" Harry asked, curiously.

Anna sighed and shook her head. "No, he was… He was killed by Voldemort about 15 years ago."

"He didn't die of cancer?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling more optimistic about his condition.

Anna sat up a bit as she replied, "No. He'd been in remission for about 18 years when he died." She debated telling Harry the whole truth but wondered if Harry was up to hearing the news. On the other hand, Harry knew almost nothing about his family's past… "Harry…"

Harry could hear in Anna's voice that what she was about to tell him would be very personal. But eager for any sort of distraction, he asked, "What was your friend's name?"

"It was your father, Harry," Anna replied, simply.

"My dad had cancer?" Harry asked in disbelief. "So… I might have gotten sick because of him?"

Anna hesitated but eventually she nodded. "There's a higher risk of cancer if there's a family history."

Looking at the bags of drugs and potions hanging from the IV, Harry thought of another question. "How many rounds of chemo did Dad have to go through?"

"Harry, you can't compare your case with your father's," Anna told Harry. But seeing that the teenager was waiting for an answer to his question, she said, "4 rounds of chemo. James spent nearly his entire 2nd year in St. Mungo's."

Harry didn't know what to say to that and fell silent as he lay on his bed, his mind swirling with his thoughts.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was running late for class.

Not that he really cared about such things, but it was Transfiguration and he knew McGonagall would throw his arse in detention no matter what excuse he gave her.

Rounding the corner, his foot caught on something and he suddenly pitched forward, landing flat on his face, feeling the air go out of his lungs. Groaning as he rolled onto his back, he felt a sudden, sharp pain in his right knee as it collided with something. Looking up, he blinked when he saw innocent, unassuming, meek Ginny Weasley standing over him. "Bloody hell," Draco gasped, painfully, trying to recover from getting the wind knocked out of him.

"Stay down," Ginny told Malfoy sharply as he started to sit up.

Draco saw the youngest Weasley go for her wand and he put his hands up in surrender. No sense in inviting trouble. Moving into a sitting position, he sighed. "I suppose that was payback for tripping Potter the other day?" Looking around the empty hallway, he was surprised that the youngest Weasley had no back-up.

"Here's the deal, Malfoy," Ginny snapped, itching to use a few curses she'd learned from Moody over the summer. "You don't provoke Harry. You don't make fun of him. You leave Harry, Hermione Granger, as well as me and my family _alone_ this year."

While agreeing to anything a Weasley said wasn't in his nature, Draco could tell that right now Ginny was ready and—more importantly—_willing_ to hurt him. "And why exactly would I do that?" When Ginny didn't reply, Draco studied her. Seeing that Ginny didn't look like she was going to immediately curse him, he slowly started getting to his feet, not making any sudden moves—like going for his wand—just in case Ginny got an itchy trigger-finger. "What's going on, Weasley? Since when does Potter need _you_ to back him up?"

Ginny was reluctant to tell Draco the truth. Odds were good the self-proclaimed Slytherin Prince would say something snide about Harry's situation and then proceed to tell everyone in the school. But another part of her—a part that always held the impossible notion that all Draco Malfoy needed was for someone to break down the beliefs his parents had built up in him—wanted to tell him the truth, hoping that the news would start crumbling the wall.

Lowering her wand, Ginny looked Draco in the eye and said, "Harry's sick. _Really_ sick. He's already lost his leg because of it."

Draco didn't know of any _wizarding_ diseases that necessitated amputation of a limb, but he knew of a muggle disease that fit. Realizing what Ginny was saying, Draco said, "Potter's got cancer?" When Ginny nodded, Draco sighed, trying not to sound annoyed. The last thing he wanted to do was be nice to Weasley and her friends and family—it just wasn't in his nature, after all—but even _he_ wouldn't stoop so low as to attack someone with cancer. "So I presume he _won't _be playing Quidditch this term," Draco said, thinking.

Ginny felt her temper rise and she slapped Draco hard in the face before raising her wand again. "Is that all you care about?" she snapped, angrily.

Draco put both hands up and took a step back from Ginny. "It was just a query," Draco insisted, defensively. "I'm sure you don't care about my opinion, but personally I'm hoping you're the one to replace Potter."

Ginny's eyes narrowed and she lowered her wand slightly. "And why is that, Malfoy?"

Slowly lowering his hands, Draco smirked as he replied, "Because you and Potter are probably the only damned decent Seekers in Gryffindor." Catching Ginny's look of 'how do you know that?', Draco added, "I've watched team tryouts every year. Always good to investigate your competition, after all." After a moment, he took a step towards Ginny, pleased when she once again raised her wand. Smiling, he said, "If Harry's grounded this term, playing against you is the next best thing." Draco cautiously took another step towards Ginny and leaned close to her.

Ginny could feel Draco's breath on her neck and she tried to fight the goosebumps rising on her skin. Every instinct in her wanted to push Malfoy away or use her wand on him. Draco was going to kiss her right here in the hallway. Her heart started pounding and she could almost feel Draco's lips on her cheek. Closing her eyes she almost stopped breathing when Draco whispered three words in her ear.

"Good luck, Ginny," Draco said, softly and before Ginny had opened her eyes again, he'd resumed his route to Transfiguration, smiling to himself as he realized that—for once—he wouldn't mind taking the detention.

xxxxxxxx

During her free period and instead of heading to the library to start on her assignments, Hermione headed up to Gryffindor Tower and found Harry asleep. Seeing Dr. Anna Rion, Hermione asked, "How's Harry?"

"Resting," Anna said, quietly as she disconnected the IV from Harry's central line and after packing everything up she turned to Hermione. "Severus Snape gave me a few potions to add to Harry's chemo treatments. They'll boost the drugs' effectiveness and hopefully help decrease Harry's nausea."

Hermione gave Harry another glance before following Anna out of the suite. Once the tapestry had settled back in place, Hermione asked, "How's Harry doing with the treatments?"

"I took a blood sample from Harry earlier," Anna replied, simply. "After I check Harry's labs, I'll have Dr. Walden do an evaluation." Seeing that Hermione wasn't satisfied with the answer, Anna went on. "Until we get the blood work back, I can't really say how Harry's responding to the chemo. Harry may be fine after this round and he can start rebuilding his strength," she added, trying to be optimistic.

But Hermione was a realist and she said, "Or?"

With a sigh, Anna replied, "Or Harry might need additional treatments."

"What's the worst case scenario?" Hermione asked, not wanting to think so negatively. "If the chemotherapy doesn't work?"

Gesturing for Hermione to sit down by the fireplace, Anna took a seat in the armchair across from the teenager and said, "Harry's father, James, was diagnosed with lymphoma when he was 12. James went through 4 rounds of chemo treatments. With Harry, however, if his cancer proves resistant to the drugs, we may have to go with more aggressive treatment. Either much stronger medications… or potentially a bone marrow transplant."

Very rarely did Hermione wish she didn't know so much about so many different things. This was certainly one of those times. As she thought about what Anna had said, along with what she knew from her parents' medical journals and books. Looking at Anna, Hermione had another question. "What are Harry's chances?"

Anna leaned back in her chair, looking thoughtful. "Honestly? I'd say Harry has an 85% chance of beating this."

While Hermione had been hoping for something better, she realized that while she was a realistic person this was probably one of those times when she had to just think positive and pray for the best. "What's Harry's blood type?" Hermione wanted to know, thinking. After all, even if you hope for the best, it was still a good idea to plan for the worst.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Severus Snape couldn't have been happier when he heard about Harry Potter's illness.

Not because he wanted the teenager dead, but because of what Potter's disease would do to Voldemort.

By taking Harry's blood, Voldemort had also inadvertently taken the boy's cancer which, without treatment would surely prove fatal to the Dark Lord.

Sitting in his quarters, Snape felt his thoughts fix on Harry Potter.

For all that wizards claimed that magic was superior and that those with wands could do anything faster than even the best muggles, there were still a few things that muggles had the jump on. Potions could cure colds, heal burns, mend injured limbs, and bring witches and wizards back from the brink of death.

But blood-replenishing potions didn't work quite as well as ordinary muggle transfusions. And even as horrible as the side effects were, muggle chemotherapy drugs were far more effective than even the best potions.

Snape had done a fair amount of research on Potter's illness and the medications he was on after hearing the news from Dumbledore and the more he studied, the more Snape wanted to curse Potter's aunt and uncle… or someone, at least. Someone should have picked up on the fact that Potter was seriously ill! He'd surely have had symptoms at the end of last term: Weight loss, loss of appetite, fatigue, or leg pain.

Symptoms that had likely gone unnoticed given Potter's participation in the TriWizard Tournament, Snape realized with a heavy sigh.

The more Snape thought about Lily Potter's son, the more he realized that the kid had gotten a raw deal. Living with muggles that didn't give a rat's arse about him—always trying to survive whatever crisis cropped up during the course of the school year… It just never seemed to end.

And as much as he tried to make Harry Potter like his father, James, Snape was starting to understand that while Harry did share _some_ traits with his father, he was more like Lily.

Going to his liquor cabinet, Snape withdrew a bottle of whiskey from the very back, studying the bottle for a moment before pouring himself a small glass. It was a very whiskey—made only in a small town in Scotland. But the taste was exquisite and well worth the money it cost. Once he'd put the bottle back and settled himself in his favorite chair, Snape let his mind drift.

Life was easier when Snape could just hate James Potter and his son. But the more he thought about it lately, the more he realized that he'd been wrapped up in his own negative feelings for too long.

Sitting in the darkened room, alone with his thoughts, Snape wondered what might become of him—what could have happened between him and Lily—if he'd made different choices in his life.

* * *

Harry was sitting up in bed, working on his essay for Professor Flitwick when Anna Rion came into his room carrying her bag. Setting his book and essay aside, Harry sat up a little straighter, looking a bit expectant. He'd had his last chemo treatment the day before and even though he'd promised Ginny he'd be at her Quidditch try-out, he really hadn't felt up to it. Ginny had understood, of course, even though Harry could clearly tell that she was disappointed.

Anna set her bag down and without preamble, said, "I got your blood tests back, Harry."

"It's not good news, is it?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer.

"I'm afraid not, Harry," Anna replied, sitting on the edge of the bed as she looked at Harry. "We double-checked your blood work and you still tested positive for malignant cells. Your erythrocyte level—that's the red blood cells—is much lower than it should be which means that you are also seriously anemic."

Harry wasn't sure what to say about all this but after a moment, he asked, "So what now?"

Anna gave Harry a half-hearted smile and replied, "Well, the good news is that the anemia is reversible and once we've started you on treatment you should start to feel an increase in energy."

"What kind of treatment?" Harry wanted to know, thinking about what Anna had said before.

Anna stood and opened her medical bag before pulling out the IV stand and setting it next to Harry's bed. "Packed red-cell transfusions," she replied, hanging a bag of enriched blood before connecting the bag to Harry's IV port. "This—" she added, indicating the bag. "—along with some additional medications and potions should help."

Harry nodded, but as he looked at the blood now slowly making its way into his veins he asked, "So, where's the blood come from?"

This time, Anna's smile was a warm one. "Well, your friend Hermione Granger was a match for your blood type, as was your cousin and two of your other classmates."

Harry was a bit surprised at that and after a moment, asked who the two others donors were. While the first name was surprising, Harry could only stare incredulous at who the other person was.

"Now," Anna went on, looking a bit graver. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but we need to discuss your second round of chemotherapy."

In truth, it was the last thing Harry wanted to think about, but he also knew that it was unavoidable. "Same schedule as before?" he asked.

"Not quite," Anna replied with an apologetic look. "This round, we'll be increasing the number of treatments and we'll also be adding a new drug to your regimen." Pulling a schedule out of her bag, she handed it to Harry. "Every two days for four weeks and then one week off. After three cycles, we'll rerun the tests again."

Harry set the schedule aside, trying to think of the best way to ask the question that had been plaguing him ever since he'd first heard the diagnosis. Deciding to go with a straightforward query, he asked, "Do you really think I have a shot at beating this?"

Sitting on the edge of Harry's bed again, Anna put a hand on his. When Harry met her eyes, she squeezed his hand. "Harry… Your mum and I were best friends. When you were born she made me your godmother and I made her a promise that nothing would happen to you. I'm not letting you lose this fight, okay? You're going to be fine."

"What was Mum like at school?" Harry asked, his curiosity piqued. He knew plenty about his father, but he knew very little about his mother, other than what Petunia had told him.

Anna's face broke into a reminiscent smile and she thought for a moment before replying. "Lily was always a kind person. Shy, at first. She didn't really have any friends other than me. We were kind of in the same boat, both of us being muggleborns and all."

Harry frowned slightly. For some reason he'd imagined Anna defying her pureblood parents and going into muggle medicine out of spite. "Were your parents doctors?" Harry wanted to know.

"Is it that obvious?" Anna asked with a laugh. She nodded as she said, "Dad was a trauma surgeon for years before he retired. Mum was a pediatric oncologist before she went into research. After Lily's death, I needed to get away from the wizarding world for a while and decided to go to medical school."

"Bet your parents were proud," Harry said with a smile.

Anna shrugged and then replied, "Mum said, and I quote: 'Better late than never.' They were never against my being a witch but they always figured I'd just follow in their footsteps after I finished Hogwarts."

Harry started to ask another question but was caught off guard by a deep yawn.

Anna gently patted Harry's arm. "Get some rest, Harry. We'll talk later."

Harry carefully laid back and set his glasses on the night table before closing his eyes and dozing off.

* * *

Sitting down at the Gryffindor table at lunch, Ginny was happy that she'd made seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team but had been surprised when she didn't notice Draco Malfoy in the stands watching tryouts. Not that she'd been hoping to see him again… Ginny gave her head a sharp, quick shake, hoping to get Malfoy off her mind. It was insane! Why in the world was she hung up on _Malfoy_ of all people? Just because for once in his life he actually acted like a decent human being, that didn't make up for years of ridicule and verbal abuse.

And yet—try as she might—Ginny couldn't stop thinking about Draco Malfoy whispering in her ear. There was something about him the last time she saw him.

It was complete lunacy! Why in the world was she having thoughts about Malfoy?

When Ginny caught sight of Malfoy as he came into the Great Hall, her eye was drawn to the slight bulge at Malfoy's right elbow underneath the sweater he wore. Remembering the bandage Hermione'd had on her arm the previous day after donating blood for Harry's transfusions, Ginny felt even more confused. Malfoy had donated blood for _Harry_?

"You seem confused," said a dreamy voice to Ginny's left.

Ginny saw Luna Lovegood sit down next to her and after a moment, she said, "I am confused." Seeing that Luna was curious about what was confusing her, Ginny just nodded in the direction of the Slytherin table where Malfoy was eating his lunch.

"I heard Madame Pomfrey was testing students' blood," Luna said, nodding thoughtfully. "No one said what it was for, though."

"Because Harry's been so sick," Ginny explained. "—he needs blood transfusions. I guess Madame Pomfrey has been testing to see which students match Harry's blood type."

"Is that what you were confused about?" Luna asked, a little puzzled.

"No," Ginny replied quickly, glancing again over at Malfoy who, for a split second, caught her eye before she quickly looked away.

When Luna saw where Ginny was looking, she asked, "Why are you looking over at Malfoy?"

Ginny looked around, making sure no one was listening, before she leaned close to Luna and whispered, "I can't stop thinking about him."

Luna was surprised at that but sensing that Ginny needed to talk about it, she said nothing and just waited for her friend to continue.

Ginny didn't know how to explain it and finally she just said, "I told Malfoy that Harry was sick. Malfoy actually seemed… concerned. Not to mention remorseful for tripping Harry the other day."

Luna studied Ginny for a long time and finally asked, "Are you falling for Draco Malfoy?"

Ginny shushed Luna and quickly looked around again to make sure no one was eavesdropping. Turning back to Luna, Ginny sighed. "I don't know what it is. But he was hoping I made seeker and he wished me luck. Is he toying with me?"

"I think that Malfoy can't stop thinking about you, either," Luna replied, flicking her gaze over to the Slytherin table. "He's been watching you."

When Ginny glanced over, she caught Malfoy's eye and the corner of his mouth tweaked in a slight smile. Blushing, she looked back to Luna. "What am I doing?" she asked.

"You like him," Luna concluded, smiling serenely.

"Malfoy has done nothing but insult and ridicule my family right from the start!" Ginny protested, quietly. "How could I even _think_ of…?"

"He is good looking," Luna observed, looking over at Malfoy. Seeing Ginny's conflicted look, she said, "If being around you makes Malfoy a decent human being, why wouldn't you take advantage of that?"

Ginny wasn't sure how she felt about that idea. The idea of being manipulative didn't exactly sit right with her but at the same time she thought about how Malfoy had been lately. He'd been—well, not _nice_, exactly—but certainly he'd been more sociable and less derogatory towards her and her family. And he'd been part of Madame Pomfrey's little blood drive. Maybe there was actually a chance that Malfoy could become a good person.

x

When he'd whispered in Ginny's ear, Malfoy had really been resisting planting one on her cheek. Oh, he'd have heard about it, certainly—if not from his father, than from one of his fellow Slytherins.

But the truth was that, contrary to how he acted, he was not entirely consumed by the prejudice surrounding muggleborns. The truth was that he'd started to question the notion that muggleborns were inferior when he'd first encountered Hermione Granger. She was certainly smart—the best student in the entire school, he was willing to wager.

And then there was Genevra Weasley.

Malfoy'd had his eye on her from the moment he first caught a glimpse of her on the Hogwarts Express. Sure, in his world Ginny carried the brand of 'blood traitor' and she always seemed to be just a shy, timid person. But Malfoy remembered her tripping him in the hallway two weeks ago. The bruises on his ribs had finally faded but when he thought about the girl who'd caused them…

Ginny may look sweet and innocent but the girl could be anything but. She had a fire in her that drew Malfoy in, even when he knew he was going to get burned.

Looking across the Great Hall as Ginny ate lunch with her friend from Ravenclaw, Malfoy wondered if he was now playing with fire in more ways than one. He wasn't so much worried about what his parents might say, but rather what Ginny's family might do to him if they caught him trying to court the only Weasley daughter.

* * *

That evening, while Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room finishing his homework, Hedwig brought a letter from Petunia.

Harry reluctantly opened it, wondering what kind of nonsense his aunt was going to use to curry his favor this time. It wasn't as though he still hated his aunt, but he was just tired of her trying to get back in good graces with him after all he'd been through.

But reading the letter, Harry found it to be surprising as well as unsettling.

'_Dear Harry,_

_The divorce had been finalized. Vernon is going to trial in criminal court for his treatment of you as well as drunk driving and a few other charges._

_This upcoming Friday is when the trial is due to start and my lawyer has said that you will need to testify against Vernon. I have already spoken with Headmaster Dumbledore and you will be escorted to Grimmauld Place by Remus Lupin._

_Dr. Walden also informed me that you would be having a second round of chemotherapy treatments along with transfusions to treat anemia. I know all this is hard on you, Harry, and I want you to know that if you need anything, let me know._

_Petunia'_

Harry started to crumple up the letter, but he stopped and straightened out the note, rereading it again. On the upside, Vernon was likely going to prison so at the very least he wouldn't be around anymore. And while on the surface he could appreciate his aunt's offer or help, Harry was more inclined to contact Sirius or the Weasleys if he needed anything.

Thinking of his godfather, Harry packed up his school work and went back into his suite, sat down at his desk and opened the top middle drawer, pulling out a small mirror. Looking at his reflection, he said, "Sirius. Sirius, are you there?"

There was no response for a few moments and then Harry's reflection vanished and Sirius's face appeared. "Harry," Sirius said looking both surprised and concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I, uh… got a letter from Petunia," Harry said, still confused about how he felt about it. "Vernon's… going to trial for the accident and child abuse and…"

"I know, Harry," Sirius said, nodding. "Petunia's been staying here at Grimmauld Place with Dudley since September."

"What?" Harry said in disbelief. All the times Petunia had railed against magic and keeping a dirty house and she decided to stay at Sirius home?

"She's confused about all this, Harry," Sirius explained. "Petunia doesn't know what to do anymore. She almost lost you, her son. And then hearing about your illness… For some reason she feels better here." After a while,

Sirius looked as though he wasn't sure how to pose the question but after a moment, he asked, "How are you doing, Harry? Really?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm fighting, Sirius. I just hate being so sick." A thought popped into Harry's mind and he asked, "Why didn't you tell me Dad had cancer?"

Sirius let out a long sigh. "I don't know, Harry," Sirius replied, honestly. "Remus asked me if we should tell you but after some discussion we figured that it wasn't the best time. I'm sorry, Harry. We should have told you."

"I-I understand why you didn't," Harry said, quickly. He started to say something else but he was unable to stifle the yawn that escaped him.

"Get some sleep, Harry," Sirius said, gently. "We'll talk more when you get here."

Harry nodded and put the mirror away, rubbing his neck and sighing when more of what was left of his hair came away in his hand. Looking at his reflection in the mirror on the wall, Harry sighed dejectedly when he took in just how terrible he looked. He was thinner now than he'd ever been and there wasn't much left of his messy black hair.

Even though it wasn't too late in the evening, Harry figured he'd turn in for the night and stood up to limp over to his bed where he sat down before pulling his jeans off and sliding the prosthetic off of his stump. The scars from the amputation were very faint and a potion or two had ceased the phantom pain he'd first had after waking up but it was still somewhat disconcerting. Harry tentatively touched the stump, feeling the rounded end. He'd avoided actually touching what was left of his leg if he could. For some reason Harry felt that touching the stump made it real… permanent.

Looking at his bathroom Harry decided on a warm bath before going to bed. Grabbing the crutches leaning against the wall, Harry hobbled into the spacious bathroom Dumbledore had given him. A bathtub roughly the size of the one in the Prefects bathroom was set into the floor and after filling the pool with hot water, Harry undressed and carefully eased himself into the water.

The heat felt good and all the knots and muscle aches that had been building because of the chemo started to melt and unwind. Harry leaned back as he sank a little lower into the hot water and closed his eyes, finally washing every negative thought from his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm leaving out one of the darker sections of this story where Petunia, Sirius, and the others find out about Harry's habit of self injury. Re-reading the original, I didn't find it necessary to include that bit.

Chapter 5

* * *

Friday morning, Harry awoke early when he heard the portrait door swing open and was surprised to find Remus Lupin poking his head into Harry's bedroom. "Professor Lupin," Harry said as he sat up, putting his glasses on. "What are you doing here?"

"Petunia wants you in London as soon as possible, Harry," Remus explained as he entered the room, closing the door behind him. "Once you're ready we're taking a portkey to the courthouse."

Harry nodded and threw back the covers to get up not noticing that Remus was staring at what was left of Harry's leg. "Muggle clothes, I suppose?" Harry asked. Not hearing a reply, Harry turned to Remus and noticed the look on the werewolf's face. Glancing down, Harry looked up again with understanding.

"I… hadn't seen how bad… I didn't mean to stare, Harry," Remus apologized, looking away from the young man's leg. But looking at Harry's face, Remus suddenly noticed that Harry had almost no hair left and he turned away, looking about the room instead.

The suite was charmingly decorated, but the former professor noticed that Harry hadn't put up many personal decorations. Was it simple because Harry didn't have that many personal effects, or because he didn't want reminders of his old life and what he'd lost?

Harry waited until Remus turned to look at him again before giving DADA professor an understanding look. "It's okay, Professor," Harry assured Lupin as he touched his practically bald head. He knew that the hair loss made him look that much worse and wished that it could have been avoided. "I know it's all a bit of a shock," Harry added, not sure of what else to say. Seeing the prosthetic where he'd left it the night before, Harry asked, "Could you… hand me my leg, please?"

Remus stepped forward and picked up the prosthetic leg near the foot of the bed and handed it to Harry who had his wand in hand. With a quick flick, the artificial leg slid onto Harry's stump and the teenager stood to head over to the chair in the corner where he'd laid out his best jeans and school sweater for going to London.

Watching Harry limp over to the chair, Remus felt a stab of sympathy for the teenager. It must be hard enough to deal with such an obvious disability without also dealing with a life-threatening illness. Remus remembered his second year at Hogwarts very well and he remembered wondering if James was going to survive the cancer running rampant through his body or not. And now James' son was fighting the same battle.

As Harry sat down and pulled his jeans on as well as socks and shoes, he could still feel his old DADA teacher watching him. He was starting to get used to people staring at him, but he still felt a bit uncomfortable about it. "I'm getting used to being without my leg, sir," he said, pulling the sweater on and grabbing the cane that stood nearby. Noticing Lupin's questioning look, Harry said, "I've found that the cane makes it easier to walk. The new prosthetic helps, but…" With a dry smile, he added, "Besides, might help with the case against Vernon, right?"

Remus just nodded, not quite sure how he felt about that and held out an old soda can. "If you're ready…"

Harry started to reach for the can, but he stopped as he remembered the conversation he'd had the other day with Luna. "Sir, Luna Lovegood wanted to come with me. I didn't know when we were leaving so I didn't tell her when to meet me," Harry said, quickly.

"But I did," said the kind voice of Professor Dumbledore as he entered the suite followed by Luna who was wearing muggle clothes, though she had pulled on a hooded cape. "I met Miss Lovegood in the Entrance Hall this morning and when she informed me that she wished to accompany you, Mr. Potter, I brought her here straight away."

"Are we leaving, then?" Luna said looking at the Portkey in Remus's hand. "Portkey," she noted with a smile. "It's one of the best ways to travel, you know. Though not as fun as disapparation, my dad says."

Remus gave the girl a polite look, even though inside he was wondering who in their right mind would ever call disapparation fun.

"See you when you return," Dumbledore said just before the three touched the portkey and vanished from the room.

* * *

Petunia Evans paced the hall outside of the courtroom checking her watch every few moments. Harry was supposed to be here ten minutes ago but she hadn't seen him yet. What if he'd changed his mind? What if something worse had happened to Harry? Perhaps he was feeling too sick to come today. But after another ten minutes, Petunia saw Harry finally limping towards her through the crowds accompanied by a young teenage girl with blonde hair and she breathed a sigh of relief. "Harry," Petunia said, her fears assuaged. "I was worried you weren't coming."

Harry suddenly felt stricken as he realized that he wasn't quite sure how to introduce Luna. Should he call her a friend or a girlfriend? "My… my girlfriend wanted to come with me," he said finally, nodding to Luna. Making the introductions, he added, "Aunt Petunia, this is Luna Lovegood."

"It's nice to meet you," Luna said, politely. "Though it would have been better if the situation wasn't so dramatic."

Petunia wasn't quite sure what to make of Luna, but decided to be polite for Harry's sake. "It's nice to meet you, Luna," she said with a smile/

"Ms. Evans?" an older woman with graying brown hair said as she came out of the nearest courtroom. "We're ready to begin. Is your nephew here yet?" Petunia nodded at Harry who held out a hand. The older woman shook it and opened the door wider to let Harry, Petunia, and Luna enter.

Harry limped over to where Dudley was sitting at a table and slowly sat down, doing his best to ignore the dull ache in what was left of his leg. Thankfully, however, he wasn't as tired as before the transfusions, even though he still felt a bit winded just from the walk from the parking lot.

"How's the… the leg?" Dudley asked, trying to be sociable. He couldn't think of how to ask about Harry's chemotherapy treatments.

"Missing," Harry said, succinctly. Glancing over at Dudley, Harry added, "Uncomfortable… a little painful. It's alright, Dud," he added, sparing his cousin from the small talk.

Petunia sat down and looked regretfully at Harry as she remembered the call she'd received earlier that morning. "I… I got a message from Dr. Rion, Harry. She'd like us to meet her at the outpatient center nearby for your treatments later today."

Harry couldn't believe that he'd forgotten that he had an additional transfusion treatment today but before he could say anything, he heard the courtroom doors open and turned to the front where a judge had just entered. In a brisk voice, the woman said, "We're here today to hear testimony against Vernon Dursley from a…" She consulted a file before looking at Harry. "Mr. Harry Potter. Please come up to the stand, son."

Harry stood and limped over to the chair that was set up near the Judge's desk. Sitting down, Harry started wishing was anywhere else other than here. At the judge's prompting, Harry described the years of abuse at Vernon's hand including a broken wrist and thumb the summer after 2nd year and a badly sprained ankle summer after 3rd year. Finally, the judge asked about the car accident.

Harry took a breath before he began talking. "Vernon had been drinking all day. He'd gotten some promotion and we were out celebrating. On the way home… he started weaving around. Then he ran a red light…" The images from that night started hitting Harry all at once and he tried to focus on anything to keep his mind grounded in the present… But all he could hear were the sounds of the crash, the sirens, and people shouting.

Seeing that he was overwhelmed by his memories, Luna kept her eyes fixed on Harry and after a moment, his eyes met hers and she gave him a reassuring smile. She could see the pain in Harry's eyes and wished she could do more to help him.

"A car hit my side first," Harry went on, his gaze never leaving Luna's. It was easier to talk when he focused oh her. "My right leg hurt so bad I screamed… then we slid over an embankment and rolled down a hill. I don't remember much of what happened after. When I came to I was in a hospital in the surgical recovery room. The doctors had amputated my leg mid-thigh due to multiple compound fractures. I was intubated because of a collapsed lung."

Judge Marilyn Weston looked at the file and then at Harry before asking, "According to your aunt, you're also currently receiving chemotherapy treatments for bone cancer? Was this a pre-existing condition prior to the accident?"

"Yes," Harry said, quietly. When asked to speak up, he repeated, "Yes, it was a pre-existing condition. Although until the accident, I didn't even know I was sick. The doctors ran tests after they noticed the tumor on the x-rays." The lie was something Remus had helped devise as he and Harry walked from the edge of the courthouse parking lot to the doors. And while Harry wasn't comfortable with lying to the judge, it beat being thrown into a nuthouse for being a lunatic.

Judge Weston dismissed Harry and he gratefully went back to his seat between Dudley and Luna. Luna took Harry's hand in hers and gave him a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek. Dudley, surprisingly enough, gave Harry a friendly pat on the back.

After a few moments, the judge withdrew to her chambers for deliberation, during which time Harry wondered what Vernon's fate would be.

After a while, Petunia suggested that they all go grab a bite to eat while they waited for the verdict. Harry didn't feel like eating, but seeing the looks from his aunt, cousin, and Luna, he acquiesced and at the café around the corner Harry just opted for a plain scone and an apple juice, hoping it would stay down.

* * *

When she returned from her deliberations more than an hour later, Judge Weston looked at the group assembled before she said, "I've already spoken to Ms. Petunia Evans and Dudley Evans and I am ready to make my ruling. I will be sending Vernon Dursley to a maximum security prison for no less than 25 years. Mr. Potter… since you are still underage, your aunt, Ms. Petunia Evans, will be responsible for you until you reach the age of 18. That concludes this hearing."

Harry stood with the others and started to head out of the courtroom still holding hands with Luna. He was relieved that it was over but remembering he had a transfusion later, his upbeat mood faded more than a bit. Thankfully, Petunia went to fetch the car while Dudley waited with Harry and Luna at the curb.

xxxx

When the group arrived at the medical center, Harry was taken to a room on the first floor and while Petunia and Dudley went to run a few errands, Luna followed Harry and after he was settled in one of the chairs, a nurse attached an IV to Harry's central line before inserting another IV with red-cell packed blood into the crook of his left arm.

"Harry," Anna said as she came into the room and after checking Harry's IVs, she pulled a plastic chair over and sat down. "How are you doing?" she asked.

Harry just shrugged, glancing over at Luna who seemed to be engrossed in one of the muggle magazines stacked on the table near a row of plastic chairs placed against the wall. Looking at the two IVs, he asked Anna, "Shouldn't I be getting one at a time instead of both at once?"

Anna shook her head as she replied, "The drugs aren't part of your chemotherapy regimen, Harry. They're to help counteract the anemia as well as boost your immune system. Actually, with the particular cocktail we're giving you, they'll help enhance the effects from the transfusions." Glancing over at Luna, Anna gave Harry a smile and asked, "Is that your girlfriend?"

"A friend," Harry said, not sure how he'd classify Luna, honestly. "I mean, she's… I-I guess she's my girlfriend. I've been trying to figure that out myself, honestly," he admitted.

"Take it from me, Harry," Anna replied with a smile. "Sometimes the best part is figuring it out."

"I guess so," Harry muttered, feeling a headache start up. Rubbing his brow with one hand, he sighed, resting his head against the back of his chair as he closed his eyes.

* * *

Getting back to Grimmauld Place after Harry's treatment, Petunia watched her nephew make his way up to the bedroom he'd slept in over the summer, Luna following him. Harry as said that he needed a nap before dinner and Petunia hadn't argued. She hoped the additional rest would help and that later Harry might actually be able to keep some food down.

Down in the kitchen, Petunia started making dinner as she thought about Harry. He looked only slightly better in the sense that he no longer looked like he was going to pass out any second, but he still looked sick, and the lack of hair only made him look worse off that he really was.

"How are you doing, Petunia?" Remus asked as he joined Harry's aunt in the kitchen, setting the table and clearing away some of the debris from a meeting of the Order earlier in the day.

"Alright, I suppose," Petunia said with a shrug as she put two fat chickens in the oven and started chopping potatoes. After a moment, she sighed. "I know Harry must have told you about when he was younger. About living at Privet Drive. I've seen the way you and Sirius look at me. And I know I'm not really welcome here."

"I won't deny that there's some bad blood," Remus replied, calmly. "But whatever else you've done, you're still Harry's family and whether he wants to admit it or not, he needs you. Especially now."

Petunia stopped chopping, putting the cut potatoes in water to keep them from going brown, and turned to Remus. "How is Harry doing? Really?"

Remus sat down, looking thoughtful. "I don't know if Lily ever told you, but during the start of our 2nd year at Hogwarts James was diagnosed with lymphoma. He spent most of the year in St. Mungo's Hospital because of the chemotherapy treatments. Before James finally went into remission, he was really sick and Sirius and I weren't sure he was going to make it."

Petunia knew what Remus was saying and what he wasn't saying. She knew Harry was sick and more than once—as much as she hated to admit it-she'd had to remind herself that Harry dying was a very real possibility. But James Potter had beat the disease as a child and with the latest treatments, Harry stood an even better chance of surviving.

But as much as she wanted to pretend otherwise, Petunia still felt guilty that she was only trying to reconnect with Harry because of the accident and the boy's illness.

xxx

Upstairs, Luna sat on Harry's bed, watching him sleep. It wasn't just the cancer that made Harry look so sick, but also the side effects of the disease, the hair loss being the most obvious.

But there were other things, too.

The weight loss as a combined result of Harry's illness and his constant nausea.

The dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep.

As Harry started tossing around as his sleep turned restless, Luna gently stroked his cheek with one hand, wishing she knew what nightmares he was having.

* * *

_The Dursleys were in high spirits coming back from a day of shopping followed by a movie and dinner at one of the most expensive restaurants in town.._

_Vernon had made a big promotion at work and was eager to show off his new status and financial standing._

_Petunia had bought just about everything Dudley had asked for, including a new video game system and a new computer. Even Harry got a new pair of sneakers and some new muggle clothes out of the day, even if they had been from the cheapest discount store at the shopping complex._

_But as they started home that evening, Harry didn't share his family's good mood as stared out the window, his mind on the events of the Third Task of the TriWizard Tournament and Voldemort's return to power. He was even only dimly aware of Vernon weaving about on the road. Harry hated going to sleep these days because his dreams were filled with nightmares in which he saw the Dark Lord's rebirth… saw Cedric Diggory's lifeless body spread-eagled on the ground—_

_A squeal of tires and a car horn blaring brought Harry sharply out of his thoughts just as a car slammed into his side. The car was forced into the path of an 18-wheeler truck who had managed to turn somewhat to deflect the impact but instead of hitting the smaller car head on, Harry watched the car be pushed off the road and his stomach did flip-flops as the car slid over an embankment and rolled down, landing upside down._

_Harry faded in and out of consciousness, coming to and then fading out again as he felt his head throbbing. His side burned with pain and he felt like someone was squeezing the breath out of him. A sharp pain was cutting into his right leg as well and he was starting to lose the feeling in his right foot._

_After an indeterminable amount of time, Harry heard sirens—probably ambulances and police cars—and after what seemed like both an eternity and a split-second, the door was pulled away and Harry felt hands feeling his neck. _

"_Hey, kid. Kid, can you hear me?"_

"_My… leg…" Harry moaned, feeling his hold on the world slipping away. He couldn't focus on the voice talking to him and he just wanted the pain in his body to stop._

_Something hard was put around his neck and as he was slid gently out of the car, Harry focused a bit more when he heard one of the paramedics say, "Decreased breath sounds on the right."_

"_What's…wrong?" Harry mumbled, feeling unconsciousness pull at him again as it got harder to breathe._

"_Don't worry, son," another paramedic, a woman, replied calmly. "One of your lungs isn't working. You may have broken a rib which nicked it and…"_

"_I… can't breathe… " Harry said, his voice getting raspy._

"_Let's load him up now!" the woman shouted and within seconds, Harry was in an ambulance which was soon speeding down the road. The woman medic looked down at Harry as she knelt behind his head. In a calm voice, she said, "Harry, we want to make sure you can breathe so I'm going to have to put a tube down your throat."_

_The experience was exceedingly uncomfortable, but once intubated he found he could breathe a little easier. _

_But the unconsciousness which had been kept at bay was back and Harry gave in, his eyes rolling back._

_x_

_In the emergency room, Harry was jolted back into consciousness when he felt something being forced into his the side of his chest. Momentarily forgetting about the tube down his throat, Harry tried to cry out._

"_Harry?" Harry saw a woman in a doctor's coat standing over him. "I'm Dr. Mallory Norton. We've put a tube in your chest to re-inflate your lung. I'm sending you up to x-ray so we can get a better look at how badly your leg was injured." Putting a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, she added, "I want to warn you, it looks pretty bad. We'll try and repair the damage if possible, but there is a strong chance that you might end up losing your leg."_

_Harry heard it but the information wasn't really sinking in. They might have to chop his leg? But what about flying and Hogwarts? _

_He tried to stay conscious, but it was getting harder and harder, even though his brain was registering pain more and more._

_x_

_A few hours later, Harry was once again unconscious and lying on a table in one of the operating rooms. The surgeons had been notified that it was no longer an issue of repair to the teenager's injured leg, but rather amputation of the limb. _

_Once they were sure Harry was stable, the doctors went to work, removing the teenager's leg. _

_x_

_Harry awoke to the sound of steady beeping and a strange pain in his right leg. It was if he could still feel the limb, but when he tried to move it, nothing happened. _

_A doctor was standing next to the monitors, checking his vitals. Once she realized Harry was awake, she said, "Mr. Potter… because of the injuries to your leg we were forced to amputate it mid thigh…"_

* * *

Harry sat up sharply in bed, panting heavily. Looking around, he saw Luna and Sirius both looking at him, their faces full of concern.

"You're okay, Harry," Luna said, soothingly. "Just a bad dream."

Harry didn't say anything as he lay back, trying to bring his breathing back to normal. He still felt tired and closing his eyes again, he drifted back off to sleep.

Sirius silently tucked Harry in and paused for a moment as he watched his godson sleeping. When Harry had been born, Sirius had promised to protect Harry from anything. But how could he protect the teenager from this?


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Back at Hogwarts, Draco found himself unable to concentrate as he sat in the library working on his homework.

All he could think about was Ginny Weasley.

He missed the old days when he could just write off the youngest Weasley as a mudblood lover, but lately, Draco had been finding him self more and more interested in her.

Ginny had a fire in her that drew Draco in and he often fantasized about the two of them together.

It was entirely unrealistic, of course. Ginny would never give him the time of day, let alone go out with him on a date.

While Draco had been putting forth more effort to be charming and a gentleman, he wanted to do something big to impress Ginny. Something extravagant that would prove his intentions.

He considered giving her family a fair portion of the gold in his personal vault, but that might seem like he was trying to buy her affections.

Best to start small, probably. An evening picnic by the lake would be ideal if it wasn't so cold. But maybe there was a way around that problem.

Packing up his things, Draco headed up to the 6th floor and walked up to a section of wall as a door appeared, Stepping inside the Room of Requirement, Draco smiled at the indoor garden that blossomed before him. There was honeysuckle and lilac around the edge of the room and the scents perfumed the air, mingling with the aroma coming from the apple and orange trees nearby.

It was perfect and Draco smiled as he thought about the rest of the plan.

xxxxxxx

_Miss Weasley,_

_Would you give me the pleasure of your company tonight? Meet me on the 6th floor at sunset._

_D.M._

Ginny pocketed the note a first year Hufflepuff had given her that afternoon at lunch and despite the protests her brain screamed at her, she smiled. It was insane! Draco Malfoy had done nothing but trash her family from day one! And yet lately, Draco Malfoy had been the perfect gentleman. He'd been bordering on nice, even, and not just to her, but to her family and Hermione as well. Hell, Draco had even donated blood twice for Harry's transfusions.

Something had changed in Draco recently, and Ginny longed to find out if this was genuine, or simply a ruse.

xx

Thinking on the note all day as she finished her class assignments, Ginny wondered if she should meet Draco. If her brothers found out that he was attempting to court her, they'd tear him limb from limb.

Sitting in the Great Hall at lunch lunch, Ginny looked over at the Slytherin table and noticed Draco watching her. Glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention to her, she gave him a brief nod and a smile.

* * *

"Harry, can I go over some things with you?" Hermione asked as she entered Harry's suite.

Harry had returned from London that morning since he had a chemo treatment later in the day and had wanted to be in his suite, rather than at the clinic in London.

Hermione had always tried to give Harry some space when he was having his treatments, but ever since finding out about Harry's illness, she'd been working overtime in the library researching everything she could about her best friend's cancer.

As she went up to Harry, Hermione noticed that he was still hooked up the IVs hanging from the stand by the bed. There were a few books scattered about the bed and Harry was sitting up and writing something down on a roll of parchment.

Looking up from his Potions essay, Harry saw that Hermione had a notebook with her and there were several papers tucked hastily inside. "What's that?" Harry asked, pointing his quill at the notebook before moving his books so that Hermione could sit down.

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed, noting with dismay that even Harry's eyebrows were gone along with all of his unruly black hair. "I've been doing some research, Harry. On the type of cancer you have, among other things. I thought you'd want to know what I found."

Harry hesitated a bit. Part of him did want to know, but on the other hand, all he really needed to know was that he had a life-threatening disease and the drugs he was being given to make him better made his feel sicker than he'd ever been in his life. "So what did you find out?"

"Okay," Hermione replied, pulling out the papers first and leafing through them. "Specifically, you have bone cancer. It's one of the more serious cancers because it can spread through the bone marrow. When that happens, the disease is usually treated with a bone marrow transplant. But sometimes, once the marrow cells are affected, the cancer becomes terminal."

"What about me?" Harry asked, wondering how far ingrained the tumor in his leg had been.

Hermione looked slightly relieved, but still grim as she withdrew a page from the notebook and handed it to Harry. "Primary bone cancer means that the tumor in your leg was the root of your disease. And the specific type you have is very rare." Handing over another page, she went on. "I talked to Dr. Rion and she told me that the tumor that was in your leg what's called a stage 11B localized Ewing's Sarcoma with a rating of G3 T2 M0 N0." Seeing Harry's perplexed look Hermione explained, "That means that the tumor in your leg was confined to the bone and larger than 8 cm. It was also high grade which has to do with how likely the tumor cells are to grow and spread."

"Okay…" Harry said, slowly, as he tried to get things straight. "So… the tumor was just in my leg. It hadn't spread to anywhere else… but it was fast growing and likely to spread?" He felt his stomach turn at the thought of what might have happened if the accident hadn't happened. The cancer might have spread. He might even have been dead by now.

Hermione nodded as she handed over the rest of her research for Harry to peruse at his leisure at a later time. "Exactly. That's the basics of what I was able to learn on the muggle medicine side of things."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed. "After you told me about the cancer and the doctors amputating your leg, I wondered why a healer couldn't just vanish the bones in your leg and regrow them." Taking the notebook back, she through it, stopping a one page and looked at what she'd written down. "If they'd done that, it would have removed your _bones_ but not the sarcoma."

"So even when the bones grew back the tumor would still be there," Harry finished. "Okay… what about vanishing the tumor?"

"Magic can alter healthy cells," Hermione explained. "But once those cells are damaged they can't respond to magical influence. Also, your own magic was preventing regrowth of your leg after the amputation. It's a protection, in case regrowing your leg also regrew the tumor."

Harry leaned back, taking in what he'd just been told. But the one question he really wanted to know the answer to was also the one he didn't want to ask. But finally, he asked, "Um… how… how long have I had this do you reckon?"

Hermione gave a small shrug. "Not sure, Harry. I sent a letter to Dr. Walden asking about that, but he hasn't written back yet. Harry… are you okay?"

Harry shrugged, his stomach turned and his head was spinning a bit—he wasn't sure if it was being overwhelmed or if it was just the side affects of the chemo. "I don't know. I-I just never imagined that this could happen to _me_."

Anna came in from the Gryffindor Common Room and smiled when she saw Hermione. "Miss Granger. Finally out of the library, I see." Catching the teenager's look, Anna smiled. "Professor McGonagall told me your research marathon."

"I was just telling Harry what I'd found out," Hermione said as Anna checked Harry's central line and the flow on the IV.

"Any questions about any of it?" Anna asked, looking at Harry.

"Just one," Harry replied. "How long have I had cancer?"

Anna let out a long breath. She'd been waiting for Harry to ask the question ever since she'd met him. "Based on what I've seen of your test results… I'd say the cancer has been in your system for a little over a year. Based on the size of the tumor and given that it was grade G3—Uh, you know what that means?" When Harry nodded Anna went on. "I'd say about 5 months ago was when the tumor started to develop."

"Harry?" Hermione said, gently, when she noticed the way he'd tensed. "What is it?"

"If Petunia had even taken me in for a basic physical," Harry replied, coolly. "I wouldn't have had to go through all this."

Anna sighed. "Harry, it's not that simple."

"I lost my leg! I'm taking medications against a disease that could kill me!" Harry shouted.

"Harry, you have every right to be angry at your aunt…" Anna said, trying to calm the teenager down.

"You bloody bet I'm angry!" Harry snapped. "She could have kept this from happening!" Wiping away angry tears he looked away as Petunia came in. "Leave me alone."

"Harry, if Vernon had found out you were sick, he would have thrown you out," Petunia started, walking towards her nephew. "I know I should have taken better care of you." Hermione stood up and Petunia took her place, putting a gentle hand on Harry's arm. "And I know you hate me for what I've done to you. And… if you want me to leave you alone… I will."

Harry sniffed and after a moment he looked at her. He didn't know what he wanted anymore, other than wanting not to be sick. But before he could say anything, he felt his stomach churn and he quickly pointed to the trash bin by the bed.

Petunia grabbed it and held it in front of Harry as he vomited. Moving so she was sitting closer to Harry, she slowly rubbed her nephew's back, murmuring soothingly.

* * *

When Ginny arrived at the Room of Requirement that evening, she found the room's ceiling gone to be replaced by the open sky which was a brilliant myriad of different shades of pinks, blues, purples and oranges. The rest of the room was the most beautiful garden she'd ever seen and she removed her shoes and socks and stepped inside, feeling the grass beneath her feet.

Draco stood near a blanket spread out on the grass and in the center was a basket draped with a cloth napkin. "Thank you for joining me, Miss Weasley," Draco said, smiling as he held out a hand to his date.

Ginny blushed as she took his hand and let him lead her to the blanket. "What is this?" Ginny asked, curiously, as they both sat down.

With a flourish, Draco whipped the napkin off the basket revealing… "Just a little picnic spread," he said, pulling out a bottle of sparkling apple juice and two wineglasses along with sliced prosciutto, slices of pear, cheeses, pitted olives and an incredible spread of other Italian delights.

"'Little spread'?" Ginny repeated, eyes wide as Draco poured the sparkling juice and handed her a glass. "Why are you doing this?" Seeing something on the bottom she smiled. "Dark chocolate truffles? How did you…?"

"That's why I did this, Miss Weasley," Draco said, as he held up his glass in a toast. "Because I like seeing you smile."

"You hate my family," Ginny said, simply, as she clinked her glass with Draco's.

"Perhaps," Draco replied, wrapping a slice of pear in the prosciutto. "I never gave you a chance." Holding out the pear, he waited till Ginny opened her mouth before feeding her the fruit and ham.

"Oh, my…" Ginny said, her mouth full. The sweet, juicy pear was the perfect counter to the salty, earthy ham.

"I have my own private vault at Gringotts," Draco said, as he popped a pitted olive into Ginny's mouth. "Even if I denounce my family name the money is mine." Taking her hand and looking into her eyes Draco went on. "You'd have everything you ever wanted. There's nothing I couldn't give you, and nothing I would deny you."

"That still doesn't change the fact that you've been against my family for years," Ginny replied, dully. "It doesn't change all the times you've called Hermione a mudblood." Looking away, she added, "And it doesn't change the fact that our parents would kill us if we were together."

Draco sighed. How to do this right? "I'll admit I've been a bastard over the years. But contrary to what you might think, I am capable of recognizing that there are some exceptional muggleborn and half-blood witches and wizards out there."

"Oh, really?" Ginny replied, her eyes narrowed with doubt. "Like who?"

Draco smirked and leaned back ever so slightly. "Professor Snape, for example. I happen to know he's a half-blood. Of course, if you'd prefer an example from your own house, there's always Hermione Granger.

Ginny didn't quite know what to say to that and so she just continued to nibble from the picnic spread. She was surprised that Draco considered Hermione to be an exceptional witch. But remembering what Harry, Ron, and Hermione had told her about Draco sniveling in fear as Hermione had her wand on him, Ginny realized that Draco was probably thinking of all the things she could to do to him.

But even as she considered the proposition of being with Draco Malfoy, she knew that it was a hopeless dream. "They'd never accept us," Ginny replied. "My family would never accept you, no matter what you did. And your father… What would he do if he found out?"

"He doesn't matter to me any more than I matter to him. To my father, I'm just an heir. _You_, Genevra Weasley, matter to me," Draco said, taking both Ginny's hands in his.

In his eyes, Ginny saw no deceit or trap. Just the same longing and desire she felt when she and Draco touched. She'd always dreamed of what it would be like to live like a Malfoy. People would respect her… she'd have every luxury in the world… Her parents would have everything they deserved…

As Draco locked eyes with Ginny, he envied what she had. Brothers who would kill and/or die to keep her safe. Parents who loved her deeply and wanted the best for her… and real friends who would support her through anything. What would that be like? To find wealth and riches in more than gold and silver coins? To be respected for who you were, rather than because of how much gold you had or what your bloodlines were?

"Are we… really doing this?" Ginny asked, leaning towards Draco. She wasn't sure she was ready to kiss him, yet, but she couldn't deny that she was considering the notion.

"If you're willing to give me a chance," Draco replied. "I promise… I won't disappoint you."

* * *

Entering Gryffindor Tower, Dumbledore was slightly surprised to find Harry sitting on a sofa in the Common Room with Hermione Granger as the two looked over a notebook and some papers. "Harry," the headmaster said, cheerfully in greeting. "I am surprised to see you up and about."

"Uh, Dr. Rion thought it would be good for Harry to get out of his room for a little while he wasn't attached to an IV," Hermione explained.

Nodding, Dumbledore replied, "Quite understandable. Miss Granger, do you mind giving Harry and I a few moments?"

Hermione waited until she saw Harry's nod before getting up and heading out of the Common Room. She wondered what the Headmaster had wanted to discuss.

"If you're here to talk to me about Aunt Petunia," Harry said, after Dumbledore sat down in a nearby armchair. "I'm not forgiving her. I haven't forgiven her for anything she's done."

"And yet you have allowed her to be with you through your situation," Dumbledore said, lightly. "

"She's the _only_ family I have," Harry replied.

"Molly Weasley looks at you sees another son," said Dumbledore. "You have friends, a girlfriend…"

"Only blood family then," Harry amended. "She asked me to give her a chance and I have. And… Even if I hate what she's done to me in the past… and the fact that because of her negligent actions I am now undergoing chemotherapy for cancer… I'm giving her a chance now. To prove that _you didn't_ make a mistake when you left me on her doorstep."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "Harry, I have always only tried to do what I thought was best. I thought you would be safer in the muggle world."

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now," Harry said, shortly as he wondered when Dumbledore would get to the point.

"I suppose not," Dumbledore replied. "However, I did not come here to discuss your aunt."

Finding that curious, Harry asked, "Then what did you want?" Dumbledore's look was oddly amused and Harry could only guess as to why.

"Draco Malfoy is waiting outside. For some reason he did not share he wishes to speak to you," Dumbledore said, simply. He'd been curious when the Slytherin student had approached him and even more so after adding that he wanted to talk to Harry.

"Malfoy?" Harry repeated, confused. The idea was… odd, to say the least. "Er…Okay. I… guess…"

Dumbledore smiled as he stood up and went to the portrait hole and opened it. "Mr. Malfoy…"

Draco came in and Harry's jaw dropped as he saw that he was holding hands with Ginny. Not holding hands like Ginny was dragging him into the room, but rather like the two were a couple.

"Harry?" Ginny said, seeing her friend's shocked face. In a hesitant voice, she asked, "Can we talk?"

"You're dating _him_?" Harry exclaimed in disbelief. "I take it Ron doesn't know about this." The couple sat down and Harry just stared at them for a moment. A thousand questions were running though his head but the first one that came out was, "How did this happen?"

"I… It was in the hallway," Ginny said, looking slightly abashed. "The first day of classes. I… got a bit of payback for Malfoy tripping you. It just kind of snowballed from there."

"Are you _mental_?" Harry shouted. "It's _Malfoy_!" Was Ginny that desperate to be rich that she would give herself to the one person who had done nothing but insult and degrade her family from day one? Or was this some twisted attempt to make Harry jealous?

"Harry, perhaps you could let Miss Weasley and Mr. Malfoy explain themselves?" Dumbledore suggested, still smiling. He'd always hoped that one day two students could bridge the gap between Slytherin and Gryffindor. But who would ever have thought that the students in question would be a Weasley and a Malfoy?

"Not like I really have a choice," Harry grumbled. Sure, he'd listen to what Malfoy would say, but until he saw proof, Harry knew it was all just talk.

"I know I hardly deserve a chance," Draco said, trying to seem earnest. "But I've found that I enjoy Miss Weasley's company. She has a wonderful smile when you can coax it out of her and a fire that is simply intoxicating."

Harry sighed, not believing what he was hearing. "Oh, and she's just forgiven you for all the times you've made fun of her family?" He said, looking sharply at Malfoy. Harry may be sick, but he could still give the Slytherin student a decent beating.

"I believe you've given your aunt a second chance, despite her treatment of you," Draco countered, even though he knew it would do little good.

"If I had both legs, I'd kick your arse for that," Harry replied, glaring. Although he did find it amusing that Malfoy moved his chair back a bit to he was out of Harry's striking range.

"Harry, Draco has been nothing short of a gentleman," Ginny protested. "I can't even believe I'm saying it, but I'm happy."

"Fine," Harry said, shortly. "But I guarantee that Ron won't like it." Harry would let it go for now. But he would be there when Malfoy showed his true colors. If only to see Draco Malfoy crying for his mother and father when Ginny got through with him.

xxxxxx

His textbooks spread out around him on the bed, Harry barely noticed the door to his suite opening later that evening. He'd actually managed to keep a bit of dinner down and now he was finishing his assignments for Monday.

"Harry?"

"What? Oh. Luna…" Harry finished the last few lines of his essay for Potions before gathering his things together. "You won't believe what happened earlier. I just found out Ginny's dating—"

"Draco Malfoy," Luna finished as she came into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, moving Harry's books to the night table nearby. "Yes, she just told me."

"I don't get it," Harry said, shaking his head. He'd tried for the past few hours to wrap his head around Ginny and Malfoy dating, but it still didn't make any sense. "Ginny's such a reasonable person. How could she fall for Malfoy?"

"Some of the Ravenclaws wonder how someone as levelheaded as you could fall for me," Luna replied, serenely as she gently stroked Harry's cheek. "Love just is."

"I guess," Harry said as someone knocked outside his suite. "Come in!"

The wall vanished and the tapestry moved aside allowing Anna Rion to come in. "It's time again, Harry."

Harry sighed. "Yeah… Figured you'd be here soon." He watched Anna connect the new IV to his central line and even though he knew that this was just for the anti-anemia drugs and nutritional supplement potions, he hated that lately he spent almost every day lying in bed, hooked up to an IV. Thinking on Ginny's situation, he looked at Anna who was adjusting the IV flow. "Can… can you ask Mrs. Weasley to come here?" Harry asked. "I- I know Petunia's staying in Hogsmeade but…"

"Sure, Harry. Just give me a minute." Anna nodded and gave him a gentle shoulder squeeze before leaving.

* * *

"You're still awake?" Molly Weasley said when she entered Harry's bedroom and saw him sitting up in bed reading _The Standard Book of Spells Grade 5_. Looking at the clock on the wall she added. "It's almost midnight."

"Insomnia," Harry said, shrugging. "Anna said it's a normal effect from the chemo. It's sort of an odd change from being so tired all the time."

"Harry?" Molly said, sitting on Harry's bed. "Why did you want me to come? Are you okay? You're not getting worse, are you?"

Harry found it interesting that Mrs. Weasley immediately thought of the worst case scenario and thinking of the real reason he needed to talk to her, he sighed. "It's nothing to do with me, Mrs. Weasley. It's Ginny. She's done something… questionable."

"What do you mean?" Molly asked, concerned. "Is she okay?"

"I don't know," Harry said, honestly. "It… has to do with Draco Malfoy. She's dating him."

Molly smiled, feeling relieved that Harry already knew about it. She's been wondering how to break the news since Harry thought of her daughter as a sister. "Harry… Ginny told me already."

Harry sat up straighter, stunned by this news. "And you're okay with that? After all he's done and everything he's said?"

Molly patted Harry's arm, being careful of the additional IV in the crook of his arm. "I won't deny I was unhappy at the news. I told Ginny I would forbid her from seeing Draco. And then he did something none of us could have imagined…"

"Like what?" Harry asked, wondering what the self-proclaimed Slytherin Prince could have possibly have done to persuade Mrs. Weasley.

"Draco Malfoy had 200,000 galleons transferred to our family vault," Molly replied. "Enough to pay for Ron and Ginny's education… and nearly everything else we've ever dreamed of." Seeing Harry's face she added, "Part of me knows we shouldn't keep the money, but…"

"It's Draco Malfoy," Harry protested. "He's giving you a bloody payoff!"

"If he has an agenda," Molly replied. "I can't figure it out. And Malfoy claimed that the gold was a gift—no strings attached."

"And you just _believed_ him?" Harry asked, shocked by that. But thinking of earlier that day, he said, "Malfoy said he wanted to court Ginny."

Molly's eyes widened slightly at Harry's phrasing. In the wizarding world, there was a distinct different between dating and courting. "If Malfoy's genuinely courting Ginny then we'll never figure out what he's really up to. He'll have all the charm going and he'll lavish her with gifts…"

"Ginny's smart, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, trying to allay her fears, even though he shared them. "If Malfoy tries anything, I'm sure she'll make sure he regrets it."

"I'll never understand how you do it, Harry," Molly said, smiling. "Even faced with your own problems you put others first."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

* * *

The snow came early to Hogwarts.

The morning of Halloween, the clouds rolled in and by the time the students and professors gathered in the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, there was already more than an inch of snow on the ground.

Hermione and the Weasleys were surprised when Harry came down from Gryffindor Tower to join them for dinner and even more surprised when he actually put more than a tiny helping of potatoes and half of a roll on his plate.

"Getting your appetite back?" Hermione asked, also noticing that Harry didn't seem quite as pale as he had in the past few months.

"Sort of," Harry shrugged, grabbing a chicken leg, some potatoes, and a roll. "I just needed to get out of my suite for a while." In truth, spending so much time away from classes, Harry had started to feel like he was stuck in a hospital. But getting away had been a challenge lately because the two days a week he _wasn't_ attached to an IV he preferred to either sleep or do homework.

As Hermione ate, she kept one ear on the conversations going on between the Weasleys about the upcoming Quidditch match against Slytherin and one eye on Harry who was slowly making his way through his meal, no doubt being cautious, lest he set his stomach off unexpectedly.

She knew that Dr. Rion had recently changed some of Harry's medications, especially after Harry had become even sicker after just one treatment on some of the newer drugs. But seeing her best friend look just a bit like his old self, Hermione wondered if the worst was over and Harry would finally start getting better. But she also knew that even if Harry did seem better, he still had to continue with the chemotherapy treatments, lest the slide cause a relapse of the cancer.

When the desserts came, Hermione was again surprised, but this time because of one of the offerings. Thick, homemade applesauce with enough body that the serving spoons stuck in it stood straight out. Before Harry could object, Hermione dished him up some and set the bowl before him.

"I think I'm just going back upstairs, Hermione," Harry said, wearily, not in the mood to eat anything more.

But Hermione wasn't to be dissuaded. "It'll help, Harry," she pressed, gently. "Trust me. Whenever I had stomach flu as a child, Mum always gave me applesauce."

Harry didn't want to say anything, but in truth, he stomach was starting to churn a bit. But deciding to trust Hermione's recommendation, he took the tiniest bite possible and after a few moments, he felt his stomach settle back to normal a bit. Giving her a grateful look, Harry took another small bite and again felt his nausea ebb slightly. It felt like the first time since June that he could eat something and not have to worry that he would end up in front of a toilet later on.

* * *

Encouraged as he was by the Halloween feast, the next morning, Harry still found himself in his bathroom throwing up. Thankfully, there wasn't much in his stomach to be expelled and when Harry was done he limped back to his room and collapsed back onto his bed. He hated that he still had nearly two more months of chemotherapy treatments and honestly, he wasn't sure how much more he could take.

The transfusions had helped restore his energy, but Harry still felt sick often and he wished he could just make it all stop.

Sitting up in bed, Harry let out a deep sigh before grabbing his prosthetic and his clothes. Once the artificial leg was on and he was dressed, he headed out of the suite and promptly ran into Anna Rion who was just entering Gryffindor Tower.

"Harry," Anna said, surprised. "What are you up to?"

Harry sighed as he realized that he had forgotten about his transfusion treatment that day. "Just… getting my latest assignments," he muttered, going back to sit on the bed.

After getting Harry settled, Anna attached the IVs before taking a blood sample from Harry's free arm. Seeing the teenager's look, she gave him a reassuring smile. "Just want to run a few tests," she replied to the unasked question.

"So when am I done with all this?" Harry asked, looking at the IVs.

Anna put the blood vial away in her bag and sat on the edge of the bed. "Well, I'll check your numbers and we'll go from there," she replied, simply. Seeing that Harry wanted to know specifics, she said, "I can't tell you exactly, Harry. Cancer is a variable thing. And even if you go into remission, it doesn't mean that you're cured. We'll still do regular blood tests and once a year you'll have a full work-up: Blood, spinal tap, bone marrow biopsy… Bone cancer hides very easily and sometimes it's hard to pinpoint the symptoms."

Harry nodded, wishing it was better news. But he had more questions and decided to just go ahead and say it, "When you get the latest test results…?"

Being a doctor—and more importantly one who did 3 separate oncology rotations during medical school—Anna understood the kinds of questions that cancer patients asked. And, of course, Harry wasn't just another patient. He was her godson and more than anything, Anna wanted to reassure him that he would be okay. But she also didn't want to give him false hope.

"If the tests still show malignant cells," Anna said, calmly. "You'll finish your current round of treatment and we'll do another blood draw."

"And if this round doesn't work?" Harry asked, wanting to know the worst case scenario.

Anna thought for a moment before responding to the question. "We'll do another re-evaluation of your meds if the levels are low. If they're higher…" She didn't want to think about it, but knew she had to present it as a possibility. "If the number of malignant cells is higher than before, we'll have to go with aggressive treatment—a bone marrow transplant."

Harry lay back, suddenly feeling dizzy. He tried to keep breathing, but it felt like his lungs weren't working. The room started spinning and though he tried focusing on Anna's voice, Harry soon succumbed to the darkness trying to envelop him.

xxxxxxx

Waking later that evening, Harry was surprised to see his cousin standing in the doorway. "Dudley?' he asked, finding his glasses and putting them on.

"How are you feeling?" Dudley asked from the doorway.

Harry sat up and shrugged, his head starting to clear. "What happened? How long was I out?"

"You had a panic attack and passed out," Dudley said, sitting next to Harry's bed. "Dr. Rion did a quick check-up and didn't find any other problems. You'll be okay by tomorrow, she reckons."

"I don't know if I really believe that anymore," Harry admitted. "You know? What if I'm not okay? You didn't hear what Dr. Rion said before. If I keep being resistant to the chemo… I've read about bone marrow transplants, Dudley. I don't want to go through that. It'll make this—" He gestured to himself. "—look like a regular picnic."

"It probably… I don't think that you…" Dudley tried to say something encouraging but all his thoughts just died partway as he said them. "I… I'm rooting for you, Harry," he finally said, mentally kicking himself for how lame that sounded out loud. "I just mean… I wouldn't wish this on anyone."

"Thanks, Dud," Harry replied, knowing that it must have been hard for his cousin to admit to being wrong and a bully all those years.

"I mean it," Dudley insisted. "You know, I was… I was thinking, when all this is over… Maybe I could teach you how to box."

Harry let out a dry laugh. It had been a long time since he'd found something funny. "There's a fair amount of footwork involved in that, isn't there?" Looking down at the stump where his leg had been he added, "It's hard to have good footwork when you don't even have both feet."

"So we'll work around that," Dudley insisted. "Think positive. You're tougher than I ever gave you credit for."

Harry lay back down, sighing. "The only thing I've ever been positive about is that I've been on borrowed time ever since Voldemort tried to kill me as a baby."

Dudley leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. He didn't like the idea of his cousin giving up but he figured it best to let Harry get the negativity out of his system. "So you're throwing in the towel then, are you? After all the stuff you've said you've done; _now_ you're just going to give up and die?"

"Cancer… Voldemort… One way or another, I'm probably not going to live long enough to get married, have kids… a real life," Harry said, staring up at the ceiling, gloomily. "I don't want to die. But it's going to happen sooner or later."

"Then don't die," Dudley replied, succinctly. "Survive. Live. Have fun once in a while. Don't let this disease be the thing that beats you."

"Funny, coming from someone who thought for years that I was a waste of space," Harry said, dully, not really in the mood to be cheered up.

"You are _not_ a waste of space," Dudley insisted. "I never gave you a chance. But I'll tell you right now that I wouldn't be here now if I didn't care."

"I'm tired of this," Harry moaned as he felt a sudden wave of nausea. "I want this all to be over."

"It will be," Dudley said, encouragingly. "Just don't give up yet."

* * *

It was almost curfew by the time Draco Malfoy managed to find Ginny in an empty classroom on the 4th floor. She'd been missing almost all day after hearing about Harry's panic attack earlier and after searching all over the castle, Draco finally found Ginny sitting against the back wall of the room, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

Kneeling down, Draco wordlessly reached a hand to stroke her cheek but flinched when Ginny pulled away from his touch. "Leave me alone," Ginny said, dismally. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Genevra…" Draco said, softly as he brushed Ginny's hair out of her face. "Talk to me, milady."

"I've had this crush on Harry ever since I first saw him," Ginny said, not looking at Draco. "He's one of my best friends. And I can't help him through this."

Draco knew this full well but that didn't stop the hurt he felt that Ginny's tears were for Harry. _'If _I_ were sick—dying—would she cry for me, I wonder?'_ Draco thought, as he lightly stroked Ginny's cheek. "I take it Harry's latest test results were not good news?"

Ginny shook her head, sniffling back a fresh wave of tears. "The doctor who's been administering Harry's treatments just took a new blood sample for tests. But right now everyone is so damn _certain_ Harry will be okay!" Ginny said, getting angry. "What if he isn't? What if nothing works and he—" She couldn't say the word. "Everyone's being so damn optimistic but no one's facing the truth! Sometimes cancer patients die!" Draco went to take Ginny's hand to comfort her but she withdrew, standing quickly, fire blazing in her eyes so hard that Draco almost felt burned when she looked at him. "And you!" she shouted, anger and disgust in her voice. "You used me to… You bribed my parents so they would let you date me!" Draco stood as well and started to put his arms around Ginny. "Stay away from me!" she shouted, fighting him off as hard as she could. Oh, God—she knew this was a mistake!

"I never used you," Draco insisted as he tried to get Ginny to calm down. "The money was a gift. No strings attached. I just want you to have everything." Taking Ginny in his arms, he tightened his grip as she struggled, turning her back on him. "You deserve to be treated like a queen," he said softly in her ear. "I can give you every luxury you've ever been denied. I can satisfy your every desire or whim…" Feeling Ginny cease in her struggles, he hoped it was because she was actually listening as he went on. "I can give you whatever you desire most in this world."

Turning in Draco's embrace Ginny's eyes were filled with fresh tears as she whispered, "You can't. You can't cure Harry." Seeing his hurt expression, Ginny added, "He's like a brother to me, Draco. And… I don't want to lose him. Like I don't want to lose you."

Draco was caught off guard by that. He'd been avoiding the idea of love in connection with Ginny, but now that she'd mentioned it, it was too late to try and avoid the issue. "So this is more than just a passing fancy to you?" he asked, curiously.

Ginny thought for a moment of how to respond to that and finally she said, "You have been nothing but cruel to my family for years. You degrade Hermione Granger _and_ Harry. I can't even explain why I like you except that…"

"What?" Draco asked, noticing the embarrassed blush on Ginny's face as she pulled away from him.

"When I was little," Ginny began, wishing she hadn't said anything. "Mum read me this muggle fairy tale called 'The Frog Prince'." Seeing the amused look on Draco's face, she felt her face get even redder. "It… made me think of you. A frog wins the heart of a princess, and he turns into a handsome prince when she kisses him."

Draco wasn't sure about the comparison to a slimy amphibian, but he got the meaning behind it. "So what happens at the end of this fairy tale?" he wanted to know.

* * *

"Need to talk to you," Fred and George said, seriously as they entered Harry's suite the following morning, waking him up out of a sound sleep.

"Well, you've got about an hour before Anna comes to start my next chemo treatment," Harry replied, sitting up and donning his glasses. "What's going on?"

"It's about Malfoy," Fred replied, quickly.

"And Ginny," George added. "Mum told us about them… and the money Malfoy gave her."

"A gift?" Fred interjected. "Please, it's Malfoy! There _has _to be a string attached."

"Well, I don't know if Ginny actually cares for Malfoy," Harry started. "But he seems to genuinely care about her. Though I think if he were trying to buy Ginny's affections, he wouldn't go so far as donating blood for the transfusions I've been getting." When the twins looked surprised at that, Harry added, "Malfoy, Neville, Hermione, and Snape are the only available people who have my blood type."

Fred and George exchanged significant looks. They understood what Harry was saying, but they knew they had to explain why they were being so protective and suspicious. "Ron's always been the most bitter about us being poor," Fred explained. "But Ginny… more than any of us she's been the one to dream about being rich. She's the only girl so I guess Mum and Dad spoiled her as much as they possibly could."

"So Malfoy telling Ginny he can give her everything she's ever wanted…" Harry mused as he thought about Draco's financial gift.

"That's a lure I doubt she'd be able to resist," George said, grimly. "And even _if_ Malfoy is sincere—"

"Highly doubtful," Fred interrupted, giving his twin a look.

"I said 'if'," George replied. "Even _if_ Malfoy is doing this out of the kindness of his heart—if he thinks we're not going to try and protect out baby sister, he's grossly mistaken."

Looking at the clock on the wall, Harry realized that the twins were missing classes and asked, "Don't you guys have DADA right now?"

"Yeah," George replied, grinning. "But it doesn't matter if we miss some classes. The joke shop is ready to go. Just have a few final renovations on the building and we'll be ready to open for business."

"Grand opening is April 1st," Fred added, proudly. "And we owe it all to you, mate."

"Great. And you're welcome," Harry said, enthusiastically. "At least some people will be able to have a laugh," he added, darkly. Trying to give a thankful smile he said, "Thanks for coming. It's good to have company that doesn't want to talk about… you know."

"Think nothing of it, Harry," Fred said, grinning. "We're happy to help."

* * *

Sitting in his office, looking out at the November snow, Dumbledore was lost in thought. Anna Rion had updated him on Harry's condition and while it wasn't as great as hoped, it was promising. Harry's oncologist, Dr. Walden had wanted to double check the results of the blood tests before he gave any definitive news. But it looked like Harry might be able to end his chemotherapy treatments early.

Pulled from his reverie by someone knocking, Dumbledore turned to the door. "Come in," he called. After a moment, Anna opened the door, Severus Snape entering the office behind her.

"Any news on Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes fixed on Snape.

Closing the door, Snape replied with something almost approaching a smile, "I have good news, headmaster."

"There is far too little of that these days," Dumbledore said, grimly. "Please—do tell."

"You recall that the Dark Lord used Potter's blood to resurrect himself the night of the Third Task?" Snape said, quietly.

"An event impossible to forget," the headmaster muttered, thinking of that night. But he was stopped from further musing as Snape continued with the report.

"Along with Potter's blood protection," Snape continued, a smile tweaking the corner of his face. "—it seems the Dark Lord has also assumed Potter's present malady."

"What?" Anna asked, surprised by this news. "Voldemort has cancer?"

"The Dark Lord has rejected my suggestions for muggle treatments. He believes that his magic will protect him. However, his strength is failing," Snape went on. "Surely you've noticed the lack of Death Eater activity."

"I had wondered about the absence of attacks," Dumbledore mused. "Keep me informed, Severus. Given this turn of events… perhaps we will not need Harry to confront Voldemort directly after all."

* * *

Harry's joy at the arrival of the Christmas holidays was shadowed by the end of the latest cycle of chemotherapy. Sitting in the Hospital wing, Harry was between Petunia and Mrs. Weasley and both women had an arm around him as though they could shield him from any more bad news.

But as Dr. Walden entered the room followed by Anna, the small group breathed a collective sigh of relief when they saw the oncologist smile. "Congratulations, Harry," Walden said, happily. "Your blood tests look just fine. I thought I should be the one to tell you in person."

Harry knew what he'd heard but he didn't believe it. The past three months had been the most hellish of his entire life. Last week, after spending over two hours in his bathroom throwing up, he'd confessed to Dudley that he often thought of just giving up… letting the disease take over.

But now was it truly over? Luna's words from the train ride to Hogwarts suddenly echoed in his mind. _"What if you don't die? What if you defeat You-Know-Who _and_ the cancer?"_ What _would_ Harry do now? Suddenly, all the doors he thought were closed were flung wide open and he found himself taking a free breath for the first time since June.

"—Burrow this Christmas," Mrs. Weasley said, cheerfully, giving Harry a hug.

"What?" Harry said, vaguely, unaware that Mrs. Weasley had spoken.

"You're coming to spend Christmas with us, Harry," Mrs. Weasley repeated, brightly. "We have a room all set for you. We've made some improvements on the old place and we wanted to make sure you had your own room when you come to visit, dear."

"Sounds nice," Harry replied, smiling. He couldn't wait to get out of the castle for a while.

"Are you okay?" Petunia asked, seeing Harry's wan face. He certainly looked happy, but he also seemed to be tired.

"Tired," Harry muttered. The previous few weeks he hadn't been sleeping well and it seemed as though the lack of proper rest was catching up with him.

Madame Pomfrey, who had been hovering by her office door, came over immediately with a bottle of dreamless sleep potion. Handing the vial to Harry, she said, "Take this as soon as you get back to your room, Potter."

"Thanks," Harry replied, gratefully.

xx

Once in his own bed, Harry took the cup of potion Petunia offered, still not sure he dared to believe that he was actually in remission. "Is it really over?" He asked, hopefully before removing his glasses and getting comfortable in bed.

"I can't say for certain," Petunia replied as Harry drank the potion and closed his eyes. "But it's over for now."

"Stay with me?" Harry whispered before sleep overtook him. It felt like a second chance at everything—especially with his aunt.

Lying down on the other side of Harry's bed, Petunia watched her nephew sleep and prayed that slumber would rejuvenate him.

* * *

It was hardly surprising to Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Luna that Harry fell asleep almost as soon as he sat down in their compartment on the Hogwarts Express for the trip to London for the holidays. The past few days, Harry had spent most of his time sleeping and it seemed like each time he got up, he seemed a little more rested.

"It's such a relief that Harry's going to be okay," Hermione said, quietly as Harry slept. "It looked like Harry was going to be… Well, at least he's better now."

"Mum's been worried sick about him," Ginny added. "What with the Third Task last year, then the accident, then… you know. She's so happy he's coming home for Christmas. She even invited Dudley and Petunia to spend the holidays at the Burrow."

"Kinda of strange to think that Harry's actually getting along with his aunt and cousin," Ron mused. "All those years he complained about them…And if they hadn't been there… It's weird to think Harry actually needed them around for once."

"Well, I think Mum only tolerates Harry's aunt because he's giving her a chance," Ginny said, knowingly. "Mum's got a long memory and after everything Petunia has done, she's not going to just let that go." Looking at Harry, she noticed how small he looked, sitting against his knapsack, his head listing to one side. "Even taking Harry's illness into consideration he's far to thin these days."

"Mum'll have Harry back to normal in no time," Ron assured his sister with a warm smile. "Couple good meals and some decent sleep, he'll be good as new."

"Normal being a relative term, of course," Luna observed, glancing at Harry knowingly as she lightly rubbed his shoulder.

"Guess 'normal' was a bad phrasing," Ron muttered, glancing at Harry's prosthetic and lack of hair. "He's always going to have reminders of all this, isn't he?"

"We know what you meant," Hermione replied as Harry stirred slightly. "And Harry's hair should start growing back in 3 to 6 months."

"We should talk later," Ginny whispered as Harry stirred again. "Just let him sleep."

"Fred and George are down the corridor," Ron suggested. "We could go down there and talk."

"What about Harry?" Hermione asked, looking at her best friend. Even if he was asleep, she didn't really want to leave him alone.

"I'll stay with him," Luna volunteered as she gently moved Harry so he was in a more comfortable position. "Go talk."

As quietly as they could, Hermione, Ron and Ginny left the compartment and headed to where Fred and George were sitting and planning the final details for their joke shop. "Thought you three were sitting with Harry," George said as they came in and closed the compartment door.

"Luna's still with him," Ginny replied. "We thought it best to just let Harry sleep." Looking at the plans Fred had out she asked, "How's the joke shop going?"

"April 1st Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes opens in Diagon Alley," Fred beamed. "By then we'll have all the stock we'll need and our premises will be ready to go."

"Brilliant," Ron replied, grinning. "Mum's going have a fit when she finds out that you two pulled this off right under her nose."

"I don't know," Ginny replied as she sat down next to Fred. "She seemed to take it fine when she found out Draco was courting me."

For a moment it seemed like time itself had stopped dead. No one moved or spoke and Hermione started counting down until the inevitable outburst from Ron.

Then Ron croaked out, "Excuse me?" Turning to his only sister, his eyes were wide as he shouted, "You're dating WHO?"

"Draco Malfoy has been… courting me," Ginny repeated, slowly. This had been precisely the reason she hadn't said anything to Ron about the situation. "I wouldn't call it dating exactly."

"I don't CARE what you call it!" Ron shouted angrily as he looked at his brothers. "You _knew_ Malfoy had his filthy mouth all over Ginny?"

"He has only kissed me _once_!" Ginny protested. "And it was just a nice, sweet kiss after we had a very nice picnic dinner together in the Room of Requirement."

Ron started sputtering at this news. Why was he just hearing about this _now_? "WHAT? _Have you completely lost your mind?_"

"Draco has been a complete gentleman," Ginny argued. "Last week he and Dudley sat with Harry while the rest of us were in classes. And he did willingly donate blood for the transfusion treatments Harry was receiving."

"You—After all he's _done_? After everything he's _said_?" Ron shouted, flabbergasted. "After all the times he's insulted our family?"

"He's quite charming, really, once you give him a chance," Ginny insisted. "He even apologized to Hermione for—"

"_You_ knew about this?" Ron exclaimed, looking at his girlfriend in disbelief. "Why didn't _I_ know about this?"

"Probably because of the way you're acting right now," Hermione snapped. "Because you'd be out for blood without listening to what anyone else said!"

"It's Malfoy!" Ron shouted again. "He's a dirty, rotten, Slytherin bastard! Why the HELL would he-?"

"Just _talk_ to him!" Ginny cried. "He hasn't done _anything_ but be kind, supportive, and caring. He _wants_ to change. He's trying to be a good person! Give him a chance."

"He's had plenty of chances," Ron snapped. "He's never taken any of them!"

"Well, he's taking this one," Ginny replied. "He really has been wonderful… and a great comfort… you know… because of Harry."

"Oh, so because Harry chose someone else and then got sick you went after Malfoy?" Ron asked, still angry with his sister. "Are you really that gullible?"

"No!" Ginny protested. "It… wasn't like that! It started after I tripped him first day of term. I guess he realized I was done putting up with his crap."

Ron started to go into another tantrum but stopped when the door to the compartment opened and Harry and Luna came in. While Harry thankfully _didn't_ look like he was ready to fall over, he still seemed weak and he had an arm around Luna for additional support as he looked at Ron with a reproachful look. "Ron, It's okay… Leave Ginny alone."

"Harry," Hermione said, as he sat down slowly. "I'm sorry… We didn't mean to wake you."

"I think most of the train heard you anyway," Harry replied, looking at Ron who seemed suddenly embarrassed by his outburst. "I'm the first person to put Malfoy down, Ron. But I think this time he's actually sincere, as strange as that sounds."

* * *

Arriving at the Burrow and seeing it covered in snow Harry deeply wished he was up to the snowball fight immediately started by Bill and Charlie who ambushed Fred, George, and Ron. But instead he leaned against the door of the house, watching the others play in the snow.

Defending the twins, Ginny scooped up a handful of snow and pelted Charlie in the head before Hermione hit Bill with a tightly packed orb.

"So, Ginny," Charlie said as he got ready to throw a snowball at his little sister. "What's this we hear about you and Draco Malfoy?"

Winding up and pitching, Ginny's snowball hit Bill in the back of the neck. "It's none of your business," she replied, curtly as Bill started jumping around as melting snow started trickling down the back of his sweater.

"Whatever happened to our sweet, innocent baby sister?" Charlie replied, smirking. He could still remember when his parents had brought Ginny home.

"First of all," Ginny said as they all started heading into the house to warm up, Hermione helping to support Harry. "I've never exactly been innocent."

"This is true," George agreed. "You've always had the biggest mischievous streak of the family."

"And secondly," Ginny added, pulling off her coat and hanging it up to dry. "I had to start growing up at some point, didn't I?"

At these words Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, and Ron stared at Ginny and for a moment saw more than their only sister. They also saw the young woman she was becoming and the amazing witch she would be when she was grown up.

Going over and hugging her, Bill said, "It doesn't matter how much you grow up, Ginny. You'll always be our baby sister."

* * *

There wasn't too much discussion regarding Ginny's relationship with Draco Malfoy the first few days of the holidays as just about everyone was busy decorating the Burrow for Christmas.

Magical snow gathered in piles around the living room and a magnificent Christmas tree stood next to the fireplace covered with twinkling lights and red, white, green, and silver baubles.

In the room he was sharing with Ron, Harry sat on his bed wrapping the last of his gifts. It wasn't as though he didn't want to be downstairs with the others. But even with Mrs. Weasley's cooking and the rejuvenation potions Snape had provided Harry with the previous day, he still got tired quicker than normal and as such spent most of his time either on the couch in the living room or in his room.

At dinner, Harry apologized when he started falling asleep before dessert but Mrs. Weasley waved this away. "I'm just happy you're here, Harry," Molly Weasley said as she helped Harry to bed two days before Christmas. "Rest up, dear. Your aunt and cousin are arriving tomorrow afternoon."

Harry nodded and closed his eyes as Mrs. Weasley pulled the covers up, tucking him in. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley… For everything."

Molly smiled as she turned to leave the bedroom. "My pleasure, Harry."

* * *

Although he trusted his only daughter—sometimes more than he even trusted his sons—Arthur Weasley did NOT trust Draco Malfoy. Even if the teenager was sincere it might still be a good idea to warn him of _exactly_ what would happen if anything happened to Ginny. Of course, Arthur would likely have to wait until Ginny, Hermione, and the boys were done with Malfoy—not to mention Molly.

Therefore, when Petunia and Dudley Evans arrived the next afternoon accompanied by Draco Malfoy who—Arthur and Molly were happy to note—seemed a bit reluctant to join the rest of the Weasley family in the kitchen for an early dinner, Arthur took the opportunity to have a heart-to-heart with the Slytherin student.

"Mr. Malfoy," Arthur Weasley said, looking at the young man with a stern gaze. "May I have a word with you in the living room?"

Draco hesitated but nodded when he saw Ginny smile at him. "Of course, Mr. Weasley," Draco replied, politely. He didn't want to go, afraid of what might happen, but the look on Ginny's father's face made it clear that it wasn't a request.

Once in the living room, Arthur said, quietly. "That money you gave us… Were you trying to buy our daughter?"

"No, sir," Draco replied, honestly. "It was a gift. I wanted to… prove that my intentions towards Ginny were pure."

Arthur nodded and pulled out an old photo album. "I want to show you something," he said, opening the album and handing it to Malfoy.

Draco took the album and started flipping through the pictures of Ginny. There were shots of her when she was born, when she was playing with her brothers… birthday parties, Christmases…

"She's something special, isn't she?" Arthur Weasley said, watching Draco look at the pictures. "Ever since Molly and I married we wanted a little girl. When Ginny came along, we thought she was out greatest miracle."

"Genevra is an incredible young woman," Draco agreed, glancing up and seeing Mr. Weasley's stony face.

"She may be a young woman," Arthur said, coolly. "But let me be perfectly plain. That is my only little girl. She's my life." Putting a firm hand on Draco's shoulder and pulling him closer as he squeezed, he added, "If you hurt her in any way… if you break her heart… Remember this: I have no qualms about going to Azkaban in the interest of protecting my family." Draco started at this and he felt Mr. Weasley's grip tighten even more. "Do not make me regret letting you court my daughter."

Draco nodded, trying not to cry out at the pain in his shoulder. "I understand, sir," he said, quietly as Ginny came in.

"Dad? What are you…?" Ginny trailed off as she saw the look on her father's face.

"Just talking, Ginny," Arthur said, smiling as he let go of Draco's shoulder before giving him a hearty slap on the back.

Ginny looked doubtful at this. "Talking," she repeated, seeing Draco rotate his left shoulder as though it had been paining him. "Draco?"

"Your father was… laying down the law," Draco replied before taking Ginny's hand and leading her outside.

"Arthur?" Molly called, coming into the living room and looking around. "Where's Ginny?"

"Outside… with him," Arthur replied, trying to keep his tone even. "Of all the boys Ginny could fall in love with. Why in the world did she have to pick a Malfoy?"

"Because sometimes opposites attract," Molly replied, taking her husband's hand. "And sometimes there is an extremely thin line between love and hate. Besides… it's not like he's asking to marry our daughter."

"What?" Arthur said, ready to rip Malfoy apart at the mere thought of the boy marrying his daughter.

"Arthur, dear…" Molly said, smiling as she tried to soothe her husband. "Whether you like it or not… our daughter _is_ growing up. She's becoming a young woman… and much as we may not like it, we have to let her."


	8. Chapter 8

AUTHOR'S NOTES: In terms of pairings in 'Harry Potter' I have to be honest—I do NOT like Harry/Ginny. It's _way_ too much like history repeating. My personal preference in Harry/Hermione since those two seem more suitably matched.

Now, in this story, I know some people don't like the Draco/Ginny pairing and if you don't, that's fine. But please be aware that there are technically _two_ stories in this fic—Harry's illness and recovery along with the romance of Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley. And while there is a focus on Draco and Ginny right now, over the summer, the focus will shift dramatically back to Harry.

Chapter 8

* * *

Tumbling out of the Weasleys' fireplace on Christmas Eve morning, Sirius was surprised that Harry wasn't there in the living room to greet him. After brushing off the soot and ash and vanishing the mess when he caught Molly's stern look, he asked, "Where's Harry? Upstairs in his room?"

Molly nodded. "I told him you were coming today but… for some reason he said he didn't want to see you."

"What?" Sirius said, confused. Why wouldn't Harry want to see him? Shaking his head in disbelief, he headed upstairs to Harry's room and found the teenager sitting on his bed, still looking incredibly tired. "Merry Christmas," Sirius said as he entered the room, giving his godson a warm smile

"Go away," Harry muttered, not looking at his godfather. "You don't want to be around me anyway," he said in a somewhat harsh tone.

Sirius sighed as he leaned against the doorframe, realizing that Harry was upset at the fact that the two of them had talked very little since the term had begun. "It's not like that at all, Harry."

Looking up at Sirius, Harry asked, angrily, "Then what is it? You never even came to see me _once_. We only talked on the mirrors one time and even when I was in London, you seemed to avoid me." Tears stinging his eyes, he went on. "I needed you, Sirius. Yeah, Aunt Petunia and Dudley were there but… But I didn't need _them_. I needed _you_."

Sirius was finding it hard to look into Harry's eyes, seeing the hurt and anger in the teenager's face. "I know you needed me, Prongslet," Sirius replied, sadly. "And I know to you this is just one more time I wasn't there for you." Stepping into the room, he added, "I know you've been through Hell, Harry. I can't even imagine how it must have been for you these past months. But for the rest of us… the Weasleys, your friends, Luna… me… It's been Hell on all of us as well." Sitting next to his godson, Sirius tried to explain his absence. "It killed me to see you sick, Harry. When Molly told me that you had cancer, my world fell apart. I thought I was going to lose you. I remember vividly what it was like watching James go through round after round of chemotherapy. I could bear thinking that you would be going through that as well. Especially after losing your leg."

"I'm still here, Sirius," Harry said, quietly, feeling his anger ebb away. Glancing at what was left of his right leg and the prosthetic he wore, he added, "Maybe not _all_ of me…"

Pulling Harry into a hug, not caring about the tears sliding down his face, Sirius said, "I don't care about that, Prongslet… I don't care if you're missing your hair… or even if you were missing both your legs. I'm just relieved that you're going to be okay." After a moment, he asked, "Are you still mad at me?"

"I don't think I was ever _really_ mad at you, Sirius," Harry replied, hugging Sirius back. "I was just… hurt, I guess. I thought that maybe you were giving up on me."

Looking at Harry, Sirius made sure his godson was looking in his eyes before he said, "I will _never_ give up on you, Harry. Never."

xxxxxxxxx

Standing outside on the upper porch later that day, Ginny asked Draco the question she'd been mulling around for a while. "Why did you _really _come here? I know it wasn't _just_ so you could talk to Dad about courting me."

Draco smirked at the fact that Ginny had picked up on that. Of all Ginny's traits, it was her intelligence he'd found least surprising since she was nearly on par with Hermione. "You're right," he admitted, quietly. "I didn't just come here for your father's approval. I also came because I didn't really have anywhere else to go." Seeing Ginny's shocked expression he continued, "My father found out about my courtship of you. Needless to say he was not happy about it and responded by cutting me off from the Malfoy fortune. Snape and Dumbledore are working to ensure he stays away from your family while they find a permanent place for me to live." Leaning against the railing as he thought about his options for living arrangements, he added, bitterly, "I hear Azkaban is lovely this time of year."

"If you're having regrets about being with me and losing your money—" Ginny snapped, wishing she had her wand on her. "—then by all means—dump me. Go back to your fortune and position and tell Daddy it was all a mistake."

"Malfoys _never_ have regrets," Draco assured her, smiling, as he took Ginny's hand, looking into her beautiful brown eyes. "And I certainly have no regrets about courting you."

Trying to still be angry, Ginny frowned as she said, "You are the most arrogant, the most…" He attempt faltered when she saw the smile on Draco's face and the twinkle in his eye. Smacking him in the chest she said, "You are SO bloody infuriating!"

"Another Malfoy trait," Draco replied, gazing into Ginny's beautiful brown eyes. "And although I have been unfamiliar with the feeling in the past… I do believe I love you, Genevra Weasley."

* * *

To Petunia, the best Christmas gift the following morning was the sight of Harry making his way down the stairs and into the living room where everyone else in the house was gathered around the Christmas tree by the fireplace. He smiled as he sat between her and Dudley on the sofa and for the first time since starting his treatments, Harry actually looked like he was getting some healthy color back in his face. "You look good today," Petunia commented as Fred and George passed out presents.

"I actually feel good," Harry replied, grinning. "I woke up this morning and I wasn't anywhere near as tired as before. Mrs. Weasley's cooking helps. As does not being on chemo."

"Yeah, Mrs. Weasley cooks way better than Mum," Dudley admitted, earning a glare from his mother. But instead of looking remorseful, he just shrugged. "What? It's true."

"Well, whatever the reason you're looking better…" Petunia said, cheerfully. "I'm just glad it's all over for now, Harry. I was starting to worry for a while. Even after the chemo was stopped you didn't seem to have any appetite at all."

"Thanks, Aunt Petunia," Harry said, gratefully. He wanted to say something to his aunt about being grateful that she'd been there for him, but he wasn't quite sure how to say it. Finally, he just added, "For everything."

"Trust me, it was the least I could do after…" Petunia stopped but she could see that Harry understood what she'd been trying to say.

xxxx

After opening presents and eating breakfast, Petunia and Harry went back to the living room and sat down on the sofa again. Harry looked a bit more tired than he'd had earlier, but he still seemed to be doing okay.

"I've been talking with Molly," Petunia said, not beating around the bush. "And we've decided—if you want to—you can come straight here for your summer holidays." Seeing that Harry was taking this news as a rejection, she went on. "You can come back to Privet Drive if you want. Either for part or all of the summer. I just thought I'd give you the choice. Despite how well the two of us have been getting along… Molly still doesn't seem to like me much."

"Well, she's heard for years how awful you were to me," Harry said, bluntly. Shrugging, he added, "You can't really blame her, can you?"

"No," Petunia replied, nodding in agreement. "I suppose not." Looking at Harry's prosthetic and the cane he was still using she asked, "How are you doing?"

"As best as I can, considering," Harry said. "It's still weird walking with the prosthetic. I miss having a normal leg. Mostly, I'm just hoping to get past being sick so I can get back to having a life again."

"I think that's a wonderful outlook," Petunia said, giving her nephew a smile.

xxxx

The rest of the day was spent in good cheer and around 6 in the evening Mrs. Weasley called everyone to the magically expanded kitchen table where a beautifully roasted turkey held the place of honor in the center of the table with almost 15 different side dishes scattered everywhere. There were three different types of potatoes, asparagus casserole, grilled sausages, rolls, and a myriad of other items.

Sitting opposite Ginny, Draco felt a bit tentative as he helped himself to the food but he attributed the feeling to the fact that this was his first time at a genuine family meal. Usually if he went home for the holidays the house elves would create an incredibly elegant feast and the only actual conversation between Draco and his parents was a polite 'Merry Christmas' as they all sat down at the long banquet table.

At the Weasleys' table, however, everyone was talking, laughing, and smiling cheerfully as they ate and drank, sharing stories and memories.

It was a warm and welcome change and Draco couldn't get enough of the warm and cozy atmosphere.

Turning to Draco after taking a second helping of mashed potatoes, Petunia asked, "How long are you staying with the Weasleys, Draco?"

Draco exchanged a look with Ginny before replying. "I'm not sure. I…" With a resigned sigh he said, "I… don't exactly have a home right now."

His words stopped all conversation dead until Harry asked, "What are you talking about?" Had Malfoy's parents kicked him out of the house?

"My father found out that I was courting Ginny and he made me choose between Genevra and the Malfoy fortune. I chose her over my family. Father disowned me," Draco explained, flatly.

Not quite believing what he was hearing, Arthur Weasley said, "You're saying that you chose my daughter over your own family?"

"And I'd do it again," Draco replied, smiling at Ginny. "If there's one thing I've learned from Genevra—and from these past few days—it's that some things can't be bought…that money isn't everything."

"A Malfoy walks away from gold and riches…" Fred mused, still surprised by Draco's declaration. "Hell must have frozen over."

* * *

"I don't care how decent he's been!" Arthur Weasley shouted, angrily. "I don't care how much he seems to care for our daughter! I will NOT have Draco Malfoy living under our roof!"

It was almost midnight and Molly had just suggested the unthinkable.

"Arthur, please," Molly said, calmly, as she tried to reason with her husband. "He's been wonderful to Ginny and he _did_ give us 200,000 galleons. We could consider it an advanced rent payment for room and board."

"No," Arthur insisted. "The idea of him courting Ginny is bad enough. Allowing him to stay here? No. I refuse to do it. The Malfoy's are _the worst_ pureblood bigots. And my only hope is that Ginny comes to her senses and walks away from this nonsense before—"

"He turned his back on his family!" Molly shouted, trying to get her husband to see the reason in her argument. "He's chosen our daughter over the only life he's ever known! If that doesn't prove that Draco Malfoy is sincere then I don't know what does!"

His anger growing, Arthur shouted, "The whole Malfoy family is _evil_! And I'll be _damned_ if I let our daughter become one of _them_!"

xxx

Outside on the lower porch Ginny and Draco stood listening to the argument inside. "I knew it," Ginny said, sadly. "I knew Dad would never let us be together." Leaning against the railing, she stared out at the snow. "It was a foolish dream, Draco—us being together."

"Is that all this has been to you?" Draco asked as he felt an uncomfortable clenching in the pit of his stomach. "A fling? A distraction?"

"No," Ginny replied, shaking her head. "But I love my family. I don't want to alienate them over this."

Draco took Ginny in his arms, hoping that somehow he could change her mind. "But I love you. I can't let you go now."

"Draco, I'm not like you," Ginny protested. "I love my parents. They're good people and I can't turn my back on them."

"Then don't!" Draco said, shouting. "You don't have to choose between one or the other!"

"But I do!" Ginny cried. "My parents don't want us together!" She pulled away from Draco, tears falling down her cheeks. "Draco, you've been wonderful to help me through all this… You know, with Harry. And I do care about you, but…"

His heart clenching along with his stomach, Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. He wouldn't let her go! He _always_ got what he wanted! _'Not this time'_, a little voice in his head whispered. _'Do what you have to do. If you truly care for Ginny, you'll respect her wishes.'_ "But you love your family more," Draco said, quietly. Taking a few steps back, he nodded. "I'll… I'll leave tomorrow. I'll go back to Hogwarts to stay for the rest of the holidays."

"Draco…" Ginny breathed, softly, her eyes pleading. _'Don't leave without a fight. Fight for me, please!'_

"You made your choice," Draco replied, flatly, trying to hide the pain he felt inside. "I may not like it but I will respect that." Taking her hand and kissing it softly, he whispered, "Goodbye, Ginny." Turning away, Draco headed into the house and walked silently past Ginny's parents who seemed surprised that Ginny wasn't with him. _'Happy now?'_ Draco thought, bitterly. _'I just threw away the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me and I did it for the sake of your family harmony.' _He went upstairs to the room he'd been sharing with Harry, Ron, and Dudley—all of whom were in bed, but still awake.

"You're a great bloody idiot," Harry said, when Draco came into the room.

Not even thinking of how they knew about the breakup, Draco went to the camp bed in the corner and sat down. "I'm doing what's right," he grumbled as he got ready for bed. "Isn't that what you Gryffindors do? Do the wrong thing for the right reasons or something like that?"

Sitting up and glaring at Draco, Ron said, "There's a difference between doing what's right and doing what's easy. And if you're just giving up because being a good guy is too hard—"

"You hate me!" Draco snapped, irritably, staring in disbelief at Ginny's youngest brother. Why couldn't he just be allowed to surrender for once? "Your whole family—except Ginny for some inconcievable reason—hates me!"

"So?" Ron countered. "You're Draco Malfoy. You don't stop until you get what you want and damn anyone who gets in your way. Why are you suddenly just lying down and letting people walk all over you?"

"I'm not going to—" Draco took a long, slow breath. Suddenly it felt like the world was turned upside down. "Your sister has decided that your family means more to her than I do. I'm respecting her wishes. I care about her too much to hurt her by forcing her to choose between me and her family."

"You're not even going to _try_ and fight for her," Harry said, amazed. What was going on here? Why was Draco Malfoy acting like a spineless coward instead of the ruthless, take-no-prisoners Slytherin he was?

"It's not a fight I can win," Draco said, glumly. "Isn't it better to bow out with dignity and grace than go down in flames?"

"Some fights are meant to be won or lost," Dudley said, in—what Harry thought—was an uncharacteristic moment of wisdom. "This isn't one of them. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley _want_ you to give up without a fight because then they've intimidated you into surrendering. Now they realize that you can be intimidated and that makes you look weak. You have to fight to show that you're not going to back down every time they do a bit of parental muscle flexing."

* * *

Neither Draco nor Ginny got any sleep that night, each trying to make sense of what was going on between them. There were strong feelings, certainly, but also obstacles to be overcome. The question was whether they wanted to remain in their separate, safe worlds, or brave the unknown and take a chance at something that could be wonderful and life-changing.

Alone in her room, Ginny looked around at the Quidditch posters on her walls. Sure, she was a good flyer, but not as good as Harry was. And her grades were top of her class but she still wasn't the genius Hermione was.

It hurt to see Draco walking away from her and as cold as the snow was, it was colder in the room as Ginny thought of not having Draco with her anymore. Maybe it was her mother's influence, but when she looked at him these days, she saw someone who needed someone to take care of him. Someone to care _about_ him.

Ginny loved her parents and her family more than anything, but the way she felt when Draco wrapped his arms around her… like there was a whole other world out there and she had only to say the word before he took her away to it. And the comfort she felt with him was matched only by when she was held by her mother. The idea that someone cared about her so deeply and was willing to do anything for her with no thought to the consequences.

Ginny got out of bed and paced her room for a while. She had to think of a way that she could have her family and the boy she loved. She'd just found what she'd been missing for so long… she couldn't let it slip away without a fight…

x

Standing out on the upper porch, Draco tried to think of another time he'd felt this low. He loved Ginny. He wanted nothing more than to be with her. She brought wholesomeness and a light that he'd never had before in his life. Suddenly, it wasn't just about winning, or being top dog. He wanted something real in his life. But at the same time he was afraid. He'd never truly cared for anyone before and he didn't count himself anymore. The idea of putting someone before himself was strange, but at the same time when he thought about how others had praised Harry Potter for doing the same thing, Draco found that he wanted that kind of warm spotlight too.

"Draco?"

Turning, Draco felt like whooping with joy when he saw Ginny standing in the doorway in pajamas and slippers, looking hesitant, but at the same time, elated. "Ginny…" Draco said, looking into her brown eyes and finding a happiness there that he'd never known before. He felt like suddenly he was capable of anything as long he had this incredible young woman beside him.

In an instant, Ginny threw herself at Draco who immediately wrapped his arms around her, reveling in the way they fit together so perfectly. Yin and yang… light and dark… riches and love… Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"I don't care if Mum and Dad hate you," Ginny whispered as she held on to Draco. "I love you. I couldn't bear it if you left."

"I'm sorry, too," Draco said, his gray eyes meeting Ginny's. "I almost walked away from the greatest thing to ever happen to me. You trusted me enough to be vulnerable with me… even after everything I've done over the years. That's when I realized that I had to be with you… no matter what. That you were more important than anything else I've ever had."

"You gave up your whole life," Ginny said, smiling. "Just to be with me… I can't just throw away that sacrifice." She hesitated a moment and finally added, "I don't want to give this up."

* * *

Sprawled in the armchair he usually treated like a throne, Voldemort felt his last stores of strength painfully ebb away. Each breath was painful and even small amounts of moving seemed to exhaust him. His body was seized with pain worse than anything he'd ever felt in his life and for the first time, he wished for death.

Seeing Snape standing next to him, Voldemort's voice was barely audible as he rasped, "The boy… Potter… his blood has poisoned me…"

"It could be that Lily's protection is working against you," Snape said, calmly, as he tried to hide the pleasure he was taking in the slow, agonizing death of the Dark Lord.

"No…" Voldemort replied, quietly. "No, this is… something in Potter's blood." Glaring at Snape, Voldemort said, "You know what I am infected with. You knew of his disease and that I would suffer as well." Trying to lunge at Snape, The Dark Lord fell to the ground, groaning as he felt his insides writhe with agony. "What is… happening… to me…?"

"I believe you are dying," Snape replied, and there was a smile behind his sneer. "Given your present condition, I would estimate that you have a few hours at best." Standing over Voldemort, Snape pulled out his wand, even though he had no intention of using it. "If you tell me what I want to know… I will consider easing your passing." Waiting until Voldemort's eyes met his, Snape asked, "Why didn't you spare Lily? We had an agreement. I would be your servant if you would spare her life."

"She was… protecting her son…" Voldemort said, quietly, his lungs feeling as though they were compressed by some huge weight on his chest. "I… gave her the… chance. She… refused."

His eyes growing cold, Snape put his wand away. "You never intended to spare Lily," he said, coldly. Stepping back, Snape relished in the desperate, pleading look on the Dark Lord's face. "You deserve to suffer. You deserve to know this pain."

"You… will… not… leave me!" Voldemort gasped, trying to sit up. His heart rate slowed and his world grew dark. With his dying breath, he wheezed out, "I… am… Lord… Voldemort…"

The last thing he heard was Snape's angry voice saying, "You are _NOTHING_."

* * *

Arriving back at Hogwarts after the holidays, Harry was greeted by some shocking news. "Voldemort's _dead_?" he said incredulously as he sat in Dumbledore's office. "How?"

Dumbledore considered his response carefully before replying to the question. "Last year when Voldemort took your blood he believed that he was also taking the blood protection your mother gave you when she gave her life for yours."

"But… that's not all he took… is it?" Harry said, starting to understand. "He took the cancer, didn't he? Is that what killed him?"

Dumbledore nodded. "The cancer spread quickly through Voldemort's body since he declined muggle treatments. Snape has informed me that Voldemort died of respiratory and heart failure as a result of massive tumors in the heart and lungs."

Sitting in his chair across from the headmaster, Harry felt conflicted. True, Voldemort was dead and it was a huge weight off of his shoulders, but at the same time it had been Harry's blood that had ultimately caused Voldemort's death. "Sir…" Harry said, trying to sort out his feelings. "Going through everything—the chemo and all—is it… wrong to be happy that Voldemort suffered like I have before he died?"

"Voldemort robbed you of a life with your parents," Dumbledore replied, honestly, looking at Harry and understanding that the teenager needed to feel like he wasn't callous. "He's caused you endless troubles over the years and last year he killed a friend. Your desire for revenge is entirely understandable."

* * *

"I heard about You-Know-Who," Luna said, serenely as she entered the Owlery that evening and walked up to Harry who was standing at one of the many windows. Looking concerned, she asked, "How are you doing?"

"I was happy," Harry said, vaguely, as he continued staring out the window.

"I know," Luna said, putting a hand on Harry's arm and giving it a comforting squeeze.

Thinking that Luna thought he meant that he was happy that Voldemort was gone, Harry shook his head. "No, you don't understand—it's not like that. I…"

Luna looked Harry in the eye, giving him a soothing smile. "I know, Harry. You were happy You-Know-Who suffered and that—indirectly—you caused it."

Harry looked away, feeling ashamed of his emotions. "I'm no better than the Death Eaters, getting pleasure from the death of someone."

"You didn't hurt You-Know-Who on purpose. You didn't know this would happen," Luna replied, calmly. "You're nothing like the Death Eaters."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Early the next morning, Harry was awoken by Anna Rion gently shaking his shoulder. "What's wrong?" Harry yawned, pulling on his glasses before sitting up.

"Sorry, Harry," Anna said, helping Harry get his prosthetic on. "Madame Pomfrey found me last night. She wants to check you over before you head to class this morning."

"Haven't I been poked and prodded enough?" Harry grumbled as he grabbed his clothes and started to get dressed. "I thought I was done with all this."

"You've been through more than enough," Anna agreed as they headed down to the hospital wing. "But I think this is more of a check-up rather than a barrage of tests."

"I hope so," Harry muttered, sitting on one of the beds as Madame Pomfrey came out of her office.

"Well, you're certainly looking better," Pomfrey said, brusquely as she came out of her office. "How's the IV port?"

Harry pulled off his sweater and undid the first few buttons at the top of his shirt, exposing the central line which was still inserted in the vein just below his collarbone. "It's fine. Although since I don't need it anymore, can we take it out yet?"

"No," Anna replied, shaking her head. "Not until we know for sure you've beaten this." Seeing Harry's disheartened expression, she said, "We'll consider it after your next blood tests in April. We want to make _certain_ that you don't need the port anymore."

As Pomfrey did a few minor diagnostic spells, she asked, "Any lingering nausea?"

"No, not so much," Harry said, relieved. "It's a good thing, too. Mrs. Weasley was trying to fatten me up over the holidays, I think."

"Well, that's good news. Although I'd still watch your diet for a while, just in case," Pomfrey said, as she frowned at something from one of the magical scans. "Are you having any hot or cold flashes?"

"Uh… I get slight cold shivers," Harry admitted with a shrug. "But given that it's winter…"

"If they get worse, come see me," Pomfrey instructed him. "Your immune system is still low and you're still a slightly anemic. So we'll do a few more packed-cell transfusions and we'll give you a few potions to help boost your immune system."

"Since your immune system is still bouncing back," Anna added, looking concerned. "You need to tell us immediately if you feel sick at all. If you feel faint, or nauseous… How have you been sleeping?"

"Much better," Harry said, starting to feel like he was in the middle of a medical interrogation. "It still takes me a while to fall asleep, but…"

"If that continues," Pomfrey said, eyeing Harry. "Let me know and we'll give you something for it."

"Okay," Harry said, feeling just a touch irritable. "I got it. I feel any less than 100 percent come straight here."

Anna gave him a stern look. "Harry, just because you're in remission, doesn't mean you're done being sick."

"_I know_ I'm not really out of the woods yet," Harry snapped, impatiently. "But can't I just enjoy the fact that I'm okay right now?"

"Absolutely," Anna replied. "As long as you understand the fact that just because you're fine now doesn't mean you're going to stay fine. If you get sick—even just a cold—it could be very bad for you. And it will be a while before you're back to normal."

"Normal being a relative term, of course," Harry muttered.

* * *

Following Draco Malfoy down the hallway towards the Slytherin Common Room after breakfast, Snape stopped the teenager just as he was about to give the password to the dormitory. "If your goal was to avoid trouble due to your father being a Death Eater then why continue this act with Miss Weasley?" the Potions Master asked, curiously.

Draco turned and looked at his Head of House, frowning slightly. "You think this is an act? That my father and I conspired and laid out this elaborate plan right down to him practically disowning me? I am making an honest change. This is no act, Professor."

"I know you, Draco," Snape said, coolly. "And you may have Miss Weasley, Potter, and everyone else convinced but I know better. What are you really up to?"

"You've never wanted to change in order to win the heart of a lady?" Draco asked, an eyebrow lifting in curiosity. Snape stiffened and even though Draco could tell he'd struck a nerve, he did not press it. If Snape didn't wish to discuss it, then obviously it was something personal.

Snape didn't want to reveal that Draco had made a good point. If Lily had lived, Snape had no doubt that he'd have gone through Hell itself to be a man worthy of her affections. But those dreams were long gone. If Draco was determined to continue with his charade, then Snape decided to play along. "If you wish to become a different person," Snape said, stiffly. "Then I shall treat you differently. I will not tolerate your previous behavior nor will I show you such leniency as I have before."

Draco studied his mentor and saw that the man was dead serious. With a nod, he replied, "I understand, sir."

"You are expected to turn in your assignments on time," Snape went on, looking for a crack in the teenager's resolve, but surprisingly there was none. "And if you step out of line, I will give you detention like any other student."

"Noted, sir," Draco replied, nodding.

Snape was hesitant but as he watched Draco go into the dormitory, he resolved to test the young man's resolve in class later that day. Having Malfoy work with Neville Longbottom during the lesson would prove that Draco was still the same person he'd been before.

xxxxx

In the potions classroom, Draco tried to conceal his surprise as Snape seated him with Neville Longbottom who seemed equally surprised. Catching the Potion Master's eye, Draco caught a look that said _'Prove yourself, Mr. Malfoy'_. Giving the most miniscule nod that he understood what the professor was trying to achieve, Draco started setting up the cauldron and other supplies. "Look," Draco said, trying to sound helpful as he turned to Neville. "You get the ingredients and measure and I'll put everything together. Okay?"

Neville nodded before doing a double take. Was Malfoy actually being _nice_? "Y-you're… actually h-helping me?"

"We're working together, aren't we?" Draco shrugged. "Just… try not to melt the damn cauldron, Longbottom."

"It's not like I plan on things like that happening," Neville protested as he pulled out what ingredients he already had in his potions kit. "Snape just makes me nervous."

"Ignore him," Draco said, calmly. "Focus on what you're doing and pretend he's not there. Snape is only scary if he knows you're afraid."

"He doesn't scare you," Neville said, doubtfully. Why the Hell was Draco Malfoy being nice all of a sudden?

"Not since I was confronted by Mr. Weasley over the break," Draco muttered. Seeing that Neville was still confused, he added, "I've been courting Ginny Weasley."

No one else in the classroom could say for sure what happened. All anyone knew was that one second Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom were talking and setting up their station to prep and brew their potion… and the next Neville had lunged at Draco and started hitting every inch of him that he could.

"Longbottom! Malfoy!" Snape snarled, angrily, while several of the other students pulled the two teenagers apart. "Detention!"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Walking into the Great Hall for dinner that evening, Draco was stunned when Ginny stormed up to him and slapped him hard across the face. "Ginny, I can explain," gently touching his sore cheek.

"Don't 'Ginny me!" Ginny snapped, pointing her wand at Draco, hurt and angry tears in her eyes. "How _dare_ you!"

Realizing that she must have heard about the incident in Potions class, Malfoy started to speak quickly. "I didn't start the—"

"Shut. Up." Ginny said, coldly, her hand trembling as she pulled her wand. How could Draco have betrayed her like this? She should have known there was no way Draco Malfoy would ever really change. Everyone had told her but she had been too blinded by her feelings to listen. "I defended you," she said, disgusted. When Draco reached out a hand to her, she backed away, her gaze livid. "Don't touch me! I can't believe I was so blind to actually think you cared about me."

Ginny lowered her wand and turned, running down the hallway, sobbing as Draco stared after her. "Ginny, I didn't do it! Neville started it! I'm actually serving detention!"

xxxx

"You're late, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said when the teenager arrived at the potions classroom later that evening. "Mr. Longbottom has already started his punishment."

"Look…" Draco said, dully. He'd thought about asking for forgiveness, but what did it matter? Ginny hated him and honestly, it was all his fault "I… Have me serve two detentions, Professor. Mine and Longbottom's."

Snape studied Draco and after a while, noticed the hand-shaped bruise starting to form on his face. "Who did that?" Snape asked, curious.

"Ginny," Draco muttered, walking into the room and sitting at the first empty desk. "She thought I started the fight. Now she won't even look at me." Looking at Snape with a hurt and angry expression, he said, "Happy now? I proved you right. I haven't changed at all."

"Mr. Longbottom," Snape said to Neville, even though he was still looking at Draco. "You are dismissed."

Neville stood from where he'd been starting to scrub the potions cauldron. He was surprised at the sudden show of… benevolence, for lack of a better word. "Professor?" he said, still wondering if this was some sort of a trick.

"Leave," Snape ordered, looking at Neville before turning back to Draco. "Mr. Malfoy has volunteered to take your detention along with his own."

Neville looked shocked by the news, but he nodded quickly and left the room as swiftly as possible.

Pointing to the cauldrons that the Gryffindor student had begun scouring, Snape said, "Start scrubbing, Mr. Malfoy."

xxxxxxx

Curled up on one of the sofas in the Gryffindor Common Room, Ginny couldn't stop crying as she thought about how stupid she'd been. She'd truly started to believe that Draco was trying to become a kind, decent person—that he'd actually started to change.

She was such a fool. She should have known it was all an act. No doubt Malfoy was laughing it up with his friends in the Slytherin common room.

"Ginny?" Hermione said, softly, as she came down from the 5th year dormitory and sat down next to the younger girl. "Are you okay? Did you and Draco have a fight or…?"

"He lied to me," Ginny said, quietly. "He picked a fight with Neville. I thought he'd changed but he's still the same mean, heartless—"

"Draco didn't start the fight," Hermione interrupted, quickly. "Neville attacked him first."

Looking up, Ginny blinked in confusion and disbelief. "N-Neville? Neville Longbottom?" For some reason she couldn't match the idea of Neville viciously attacking anyone.

"It surprised everyone," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Neville punched Draco and the next thing we knew, the two were going at it and… Ginny?"

"Oh, God…" Ginny said, burying her face in her hands before starting to cry again. "What I said…"

"You broke up with him?" Hermione queried, taken aback. Ginny had seemed so in love with Draco the last time they'd been together.

Ginny was still crying as she went on. "He… he looked so defeated… like I'd…"

"Struck him?" Hermione supplied, putting a comforting hand on Ginny's back. "I'm sure he knows it was all a misunderstanding."

"You don't understand. I actually slapped him," Ginny said, uncurling. "Hard. Oh, he'd never want to be with me after this." Getting up, she slowly headed for her dormitory.

xxxxxxx

It was almost midnight when Draco finished the cleaning. Tired and sore, he headed for the classroom door, fighting back a groan when Snape stopped him. All he wanted was to go to bed, get some sleep, and try to come up with a plan to beg Ginny's forgiveness. "I think tonight should prove sufficient, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said, a faint smile tweaking the corner of his mouth.

"I'll do both detentions," Draco insisted, dully. "It doesn't matter anyway. Ginny hates me and I deserve the punishment."

"I was wrong about you, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said, the smile growing. "I believed that this was an act but I know that you do not have the discipline to lower yourself unless there is a sufficient reward." Seeing that he was catching Draco's curiosity, Snape went on. "Even with no reward you still committed to the task and insisted on the further punishment. And that is very much unlike who you were."

"It doesn't matter," Draco repeated. "Ginny will never forgive me for what I did."

"The emotions of females can change rapidly," Snape said, shrugging. "If you give her time she might be willing to give you another chance." Although, he also knew from experience that sometimes girls could hold resentments for an exceptionally long time.

Draco shook his head doubtfully as he left the room. "No, I blew it," he muttered, heading for his dormitory.

* * *

The next few days, Harry noticed that Ginny became very withdrawn and didn't want to talk to anybody except Harry or Luna, and even then, she didn't say much.

On the second weekend after the start of term, Harry was sitting upright in his bed, talking with Ginny while an IV bag of packed red blood cells was dripping into his veins. Anna had noticed that he was still slightly anemic and therefore decided to keep up the transfusion treatments for at least one more week. "You need to talk to Draco," Harry said, looking Ginny in the eye. "He's moping around and even I can tell he misses you."

"I can't face him," Ginny said, shaking her head. "I-I know he's not a saint. I forgot that he's as human as anyone else." Feeling tears sting her eyes she tried putting on a brave expression as she said, "I'm sure he's moved on. He probably hates me for… for not believing in him."

Harry sighed and silently prayed for patience. This had to be one of the strangest years ever… "Ginny, Draco has been miserable. He's skipping classes; he hasn't been playing well at all during Quidditch practice." Taking Ginny's hand he added, "The two of you are miserable. Just talk to each other." Seeing that Ginny wasn't going anywhere, Harry sighed again. "Okay, How about this? Draco's coming here in a minute." When Ginny started to get up, Harry held her hand tighter to stop her from leaving. "Ginny, you've never run away from anything. Don't run away from this. What if something happened to one of you? Don't do something you might regret."

"I meant what I said at Christmas," Draco said, as he stood in the bedroom doorway, looking at Ginny when she whirled around to look at him. "I have no regrets about my time with you."

Ginny pulled her hand from Harry and started to make a break for the door but Draco intercepted her and pulled her close before kissing her deeply on the lips.

"Draco, you…" Ginny stopped trying to get out of the kiss when Draco gently rubbed the back of her neck. It was something that had always calmed her. She even remembered her mother doing the same thing when she was young. After a few moments, she pulled away, tears falling down her cheeks. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Gin Blossom," Draco replied, smiling as he used the nickname Fred and George had told him about over Christmas. "You were right to think the worst of me. Longbottom thinks of you as a friend. He was defending your honor."

"Still…" Ginny said, not quite letting go of her guilt. "I should have let you explain. I just assumed…"

"Why don't you guys go take a walk?" Harry suggested, screwing up his face in mock-disgust as Ginny and Draco started kissing again.

Draco smiled at Ginny, the two taking each other's hands. "A splendid idea," Draco agreed, grateful that Ginny was giving him another chance.

Arm in arm, they left the room as Luna drifted in. "Looks like your plan worked," Luna observed as she sat next to Harry on the bed. "It's always nice when people find love, isn't it? It's like its own special brand of magic."

Pulling Luna closer, Harry smiled as he agreed, "It really is." As the two kissed, Harry wondered what he'd done to deserve such a wonderful girlfriend.

* * *

The end of the year arrived on a warm summer day and as Harry limped onto the Hogwarts Express, it felt strange to actually be happy about going back to Privet Drive. Sitting in his compartment and waiting for Luna and his friends, Harry looked at his reflection in the window, frowning slightly at his bald head, Anna had assured him that his hair would start growing back within a month or so and Harry couldn't wait. Every time he saw his reflection and the absence of his unruly black hair it was another reminder of the fact how his body had turned against him.

"There you are, Harry," Hermione said, cheerfully as she entered the compartment with Ron, Ginny, Draco, and Luna in tow "We were wondering where you'd got to."

Sitting down and taking Harry's hand, Luna said, "You're not hiding or anything, are you?"

"Just thinking," Harry said, giving his friends and girlfriend a smile.

"Your hair will grow back soon, Harry," Luna said, knowingly, as she touched Harry's head. "But if it bothers you so much we could always get you a hat or something."

"You don't understand," Harry muttered, shaking his head. "It's… my hair was one of the few things that connected me to my dad. His hair stuck up in the back the same as mine…" After a moment he added, "And because of losing my leg I don't even know if I can play Quidditch anymore…"

"Harry, I'm sure there's more that connects you and your dad than hair and Quidditch," Ginny said, encouragingly.

"Is there?" Harry asked, thinking that the fact that a history of cancer didn't count. "I don't really know anything about my parents… other than I look like my dad and I have my mum's eyes."

* * *

Driving to King's Cross station, Petunia was trying not to let her worries be noticed by Dudley but she was sure her son knew something was going on. The past two weeks, Vernon had been driving slowly past #4 Privet Drive and while Petunia didn't think he'd be so stupid as to attack them, one never knew. A few days ago, she'd gotten a restraining order and while it had stopped Vernon's drive-bys he was now calling then hanging up the phone. For the first time in her life, Petunia found that she was afraid of her ex-husband.

Dudley knew something was bothering his mother and it didn't take a genius to guess what it was. "What's Dad done now?" he asked, looking out the window. He knew about the drive-bys and the calls and while a part of him wanted to talk to his father, he also understood that Vernon was dangerous, especially lately.

"Nothing… yet," Petunia replied, stoically. She didn't want admit the fact that Vernon was scaring her more and more these days.

"I never thought I'd see the day when Dad scared me," Dudley admitted. "Even when he yelled at Harry, I never thought he'd hurt _us_." Looking at his mother he asked, "What if Dad tries to… do something? Attack us?"

"I don't know," Petunia said, shaking her head. "I'm scared that he'll… Vernon is dangerous when he's angry. And right now he's very angry with me for divorcing him and getting a restraining order."

"Does he know about Grimmauld Place?" Dudley asked, curiously.

"I don't think so," Petunia replied, glancing at her son. "Why?"

"Maybe we should go there instead of home," Dudley explained. "If we lay low for a while, wait until he calms down. At the very least, we'd be someplace safe."

"I refuse to go into hiding," Petunia said, stubbornly, even though she was thinking that it might be a good idea to get away for a while. "Vernon is not going to scare me away with a few drive-bys or threatening phone calls."

* * *

Walking through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, Harry gave Luna a long kiss good-bye before she skipped off to join her father and he followed Hermione, Ron, and Ginny to where the rest of the Weasleys were waiting with Hermione's parents and Petunia and Dudley.

"Ready to go home and weed the garden?" Petunia said, smiling to let Harry know that it was a joke.

Harry let out a weary laugh and asked, "Can I go home and sleep instead?"

"All weekend if you want," Petunia said, brightly as she took Harry's bag and Dudley took the trunk. As they headed for the car, Petunia asked, "How was the train ride?"

"Quiet," Harry said, shrugging. "Didn't get to sleep as much as I wanted, though."

"What's wrong, Harry?" Dudley asked, hearing the depressed tone in Harry's voice. "Thought you'd be happy to be going home."

"It's nothing," Harry said, trying to convey that he didn't want to talk about it. He might be closer to his cousin and aunt than he had been in years past but that didn't mean that he was ready to share his deepest secrets and fears with them.

"You're still in remission, right?" Petunia asked, automatically assuming the worst.

"I'm fine," Harry assured her. "Anna gave me some potions and medications to help with my recovery. I just… Let's talk about it when we get in the car, okay?"

"Okay," Petunia agreed, leading the way.

Once they were on the way back to Privet Drive—Harry in the front seat and Dudley sitting in back—Petunia again asked Harry what was wrong.

"It's stupid…" Harry muttered, as he looked at his reflection in the side window. Seeing that Petunia wasn't going to let the issue slide, Harry sighed. "It's… my hair. Or lack of, I guess. My hair just made me look that much more like my dad, you know? Now that it's gone…"

"It'll grow back, though, won't it?" Dudley asked, looking at his cousin's bald head.

"In another month or two," Harry replied, still looking out the window. "But Anna said that it could grow back different, you know? Different color, or texture…"

"Your hair isn't all that connects you to your father," Petunia said, trying to cheer her nephew up. "You have his talent for getting into trouble. You have a fierce loyalty to your friends… And according to Sirius you love that girl, Luna, as much as your father loved Lily."

There was that, Harry admitted. Maybe he had been thinking too much on his physical resemblance to his father.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

As Petunia turned onto Privet Drive, Harry sat up straighter and even gave his aunt a smile when #4 suddenly blew up, the explosion and blast wave rocking the car.

Turning sharply away from the blast and heading back the way they came a bit so that they were out of danger, Petunia parked in the middle of the street and got out, shocked at what she'd just seen. The house she'd lived in for the past 20 years was now a fireball. Everything her family ever owned—all the mementoes from her childhood and Lily—it was gone forever.

"What the HELL was that?" Dudley said, getting out of the car along with Harry. "Mum? You okay?"

"I… am going… TO KILL HIM!" Petunia roared, her anger almost overwhelming.

"You think Dad did this?" Dudley said, shocked at the very idea. "But… he doesn't know anything about explosives or…" Or did he? Had his father really blown up the house on purpose? What if he, his mother, and Harry had been inside? Dudley's stomach turned at the thought.

"Something you guys haven't told me?" Harry asked, looking curiously at his aunt and cousin. Had Vernon been threatening them while he'd been at Hogwarts?

"Vernon was driving past the house a lot… making phone calls…" Petunia looked at what had been her home for the past 20 years and the anger inside her gave way to fear at what might have happened and relief that she, Harry, and Dudley weren't inside the house when it blew. "I never imagined he'd do something like this."

"And I bet you never imagined he'd drive drunk and nearly kill us all," Harry said, looking at the burning house.

* * *

Sirius was surprised when the doorbell rang at almost midnight that night. Voldemort was dead so there was no real reason for anyone to be coming to headquarters. Perhaps it was Dumbledore or Molly Weasley coming by for a late night chat.

Looking through the peephole, Sirius was even more confused when he saw Harry, Petunia, and Dudley standing on the front step. Even stranger still was that only Harry's luggage was visible. Opening the door, he asked, "What's going on?"

"Vernon blew up the house," Petunia said in as calm a voice as she could, though Sirius could tell that her rage was dangerously close to the surface. "Do you mind if we stay with you?"

"Not at all," Sirius replied, stepping aside. "Are you all okay?" But Petunia's words suddenly started sinking in and as he closed the door, his eyes grew wide. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah, Vernon apparently blew the house up just before we pulled in the driveway," Harry replied, grimly. "We're all okay, Sirius… I guess. It was really scary, though."

"Harry, why don't you and Dudley go upstairs and get some sleep?" Petunia said, cutting Harry off. Once the two teenagers were out of earshot, she let Sirius lead her down to the kitchen. When she was sitting down at the table with a glass of firewhiskey, she said, "I wanted to kill Vernon for blowing up the house. I'm just _so angry_!"

Sirius nodded and pulled Petunia to her feet and into a friendly hug. "I know," he said, quietly, his voice full of understanding. "When I saw James and Lily's home after… I wanted to kill Pettigrew for what he'd done. When I found Harry alive, I just wept in relief as I held him. I tried to kill Pettigrew for what he'd done and I spent 12 years in Azkaban." Looking at Petunia, he added, "I know you're angry and right now finding Vernon and beating the bloody shit out of him seems like a good idea but trust me…" Looking in the direction of the stairs, he said, "You've got more important things to worry about right now."

Wrapping her arms around Sirius, Petunia couldn't help but like the way the two of them fit together. Without meaning to or knowing why… she looked up at Harry's godfather and kissed him. It wasn't anything romantic, but rather a 'thank you for being there for me'. Sirius didn't respond to the kiss, but he didn't pull away either. Rather he just held Petunia close, understanding that she needed some genuine comfort at that moment.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Petunia was up early the following morning and was clattering around the kitchen making breakfast when Sirius came down. "Tea?" Petunia offered, pointing to the kettle on the stove.

Sirius nodded and started brewing the tea as he watched Petunia cooking. Thinking about what had transpired the night before, he asked, "Are we going to talk about last night?"

Petunia didn't meet Sirius's gaze. It wasn't that she was embarrassed about the situation, but rather that she was uncomfortable with the memory of kissing her nephew's godfather. "I've been lonely for months now. I haven't even thought about dating since the divorce. I've just been too wrapped up with Harry and Dudley."

"Petunia… I may not like how you've treated Harry in the past, but… I liked that kiss. Would it be so bad if we were together?" Sirius asked, waiting for Harry's aunt to look at him. "We would both be available to help take care of the boys and until we know for sure that Vernon is dead, it would be safer for you all to stay here."

"Let's just… stay friends. Alright?" Petunia replied, looking at Sirius.

"Fair enough," Sirius muttered, disappointed. "I was thinking of taking the boys out today."

"Fine," Petunia said, working on the bacon sizzling in the pan. Thinking of the phone call she'd received earlier that morning, she said, "The police want me to come to the precinct later today to answer some questions. I'd appreciate it if you made sure nothing happened to Harry and Dudley."

"If there's any sign of Vernon I'll keep them safe," Sirius promised.

"Thank you. Call the boys for breakfast, will you?" Petunia asked as she finished the toast.

Upstairs in the last bedroom on the left, Sirius found Harry and Dudley still in their beds asleep. "Come on, boys!" Sirius said, cheerfully, rousing them. "Breakfast."

Harry grabbed his glasses and slid them on, blinking for a moment as he tried to figure out where he was. After a few moments, it all came back: #4 exploding, the police coming… and showing up on Sirius's front step in the middle of the night.

"10 more minutes…" Dudley grumbled, not even opening his eyes as he rolled over to go back to sleep.

"Petunia's got breakfast ready," Sirius said, insistently. "Come on."

Harry sighed as he sat up and once his prosthetic was on, he and Dudley got dressed and headed down to the kitchen where Petunia was setting the table and pouring orange juice. "Morning Aunt Petunia," Harry said, sleepily as he sat down at the table.

"Morning, Mum," Dudley muttered, pouring himself a cup of tea and adding 4 spoons of sugar to it, hoping the combination of caffiene and sugar would help perk him up a bit.

"Harry, do you and Dudley mind staying with Sirius today?" Petunia asked sitting opposite Sirius. "Just… to be safe?"

"Sure. Why?" Dudley asked, eating quickly. It felt like it had been weeks since he had a proper meal. But maybe it was just an after-effect from the previous night.

"I have to go out today," Petunia replied, not wanting to add that she was afraid Vernon might attack the boys. "Maybe the three of you could go to the zoo," she suggested, trying to keep her tone casual.

Harry and Dudley exchanged a look as they heard the worried tone in Petunia's voice but they said nothing before nodding in agreement.

* * *

Once at the zoo, Dudley thought back to his 11th birthday and said, "The last time we were here you set a snake on me." Grinning at Harry he gently bumped him with a shoulder. "Remember?"

"And I then magically trapped you in the enclosure," Harry replied, nodding. "Scared the pants off you that day, too."

"I always wanted to know…" Dudley said, quietly, as they approached the reptile house. "What was going on that day? What were you doing with that snake? It was like it could actually understand you."

Harry stopped and waited until Sirius gave him a wink before replying. "You really want to know?"

"Wouldn't be asking if I didn't," Dudley said, looking curious. Wait, his cousin couldn't actually talk to snakes, could he? That was crazy!

Inside the building, Harry looked around and grinned as he saw a familiar Burmese python lounging in its enclosure. Walking over to the snake, he spoke in Parseltongue. "Nice to see you again. Don't suppose you recognize me, do you?"

"I remember you," the snake said, looking interested as he studied Harry. "You set me free before."

"I take it they caught you after you escaped," Harry said, regretfully. "Sorry about that."

"Oh, it's fine," the python said, slithering closer. "It's not so bad here. People tried to attack me when I was out." Looking at Dudley, the snake recognized the boy and turned back to Harry as he asked, "Do you mind if I scare him a bit?"

Harry glanced at Dudley who was hesitantly approaching the glass. "Go for it," Harry hissed with a smirk, turning to his cousin.

Dudley practically jumped out of his skin when the python reared up and lunged at the glass, fangs bared. After a moment, Dudley realized that Harry was laughing at him. "Yeah, yeah… real bloody hilarious, cousin," Dudley muttered, keeping his distance from the snake enclosure. "Git."

"Hey, I haven't really had anything to laugh at in a long time," Harry said, his smile fading a bit.

As Dudley looked over his cousin, he nodded, somberly. "Yeah… I guess so."

Realizing that he had ruined his cousin's fun as much as his own, Harry tried to smile more as he said, "Hey, once my hair starts growing back I won't look so bad. Come on… let's go look at the lions."

* * *

At the local police department, Petunia sat nervously with one of the inspectors. The man had seemed nice enough and had been very polite as he asked her to recount the events from last night as part of the official record. "Ms. Evans, has Vernon Dursley had any dealings in the Middle East lately?" Inspector Thomas Sawyer asked after the standard questions about the blast.

Petunia froze as she realized what the inspector was asking. "Last year… he was promoted. His bosses were expanding business into that area. Are… are you saying my ex-husband is a terrorist or something?" The thought almost made her heart stop as she thought about what she'd seen on the news about terrorist sleeper cells in the United States.

Inspector Sawyer nodded, gravely. "Grunnings has been working with Iraqi terrorists for more than 25 years, providing supplies, funds… We found the remnants of a bomb in your house. It looks like Vernon Dursley was working on finishing it when it detonated. Whether the detonation was intentional or not is yet to be determined."

Thinking of the death of her ex-husband, Petunia tried not to sound hopeful as she asked, "Was he killed in the blast?"

"We're not sure yet," the inspector replied. "No human remains were found but if he was right next to the bomb it's possible there wouldn't be any remains…"

Petunia's heart started racing at the thought that Vernon could still be alive. "So he could still be out there…"

Sawyer took Petunia's hand in his and gave a squeeze. "We'll do all we can to find him. Is there someplace safe you can stay?"

"Uh… this townhouse. 12 Grimmauld Place," Petunia said, her mind still reeling. "The place belongs to Harry's godfather."

"We'll station a patrol nearby just in case," Sawyer promised. "One more thing…"

Afraid of what was coming next, Petunia was surprised the inspector asked, "May I take you to dinner sometime?"

* * *

Arriving back at Grimmauld Place, Sirius wasn't quite sure why Petunia was furiously scrubbing the already scrupulously clean kitchen. "Petunia? What's wrong?"

Pausing in her cleaning, Petunia looked at Sirius, angry and fearful tears in her eyes as she said, "Everything is wrong!" Sighing she threw her rag onto the countertop and sat down at the table, trying to will herself back into some semblance of calm.

"Care to elaborate?" Sirius asked, gently, as he pulled out two small glasses and a bottle of muggle Irish whiskey. Pouring two glasses, he handed one to Petunia.

Once Petunia had her drink, she downed the whole glass in one gulp before starting to talk. "The day of the car accident… Vernon told me that his company—Grunnings—was expanding into the Middle East. What he didn't say… was that the expansion was a terrorist cell in Iraq."

"What?" Sirius said, shocked at this revelation.

"How could I have missed the fact that my own husband was a terrorist?" Petunia burst out, unaware that Dudley and Harry had been listening.

"Dad was a what?" Dudley said, as he and Harry entered the kitchen, looking alarmed at the news.

Petunia wasn't sure how to deal with Dudley finding out so she decided to go with honesty. "It looks like Vernon was constructing an explosive device when the house blew up. The police and the American FBI were looking at him as a potential terrorist threat."

Dudley sat down at the table along with Harry. "That big promotion he got… My father is a terrorist. I can't believe it…" With a sudden stab of horror, he said, "Mum, he tried to kill us!"

"I hate to admit it," Sirius said, looking at Petunia gravely. "But Dudley's probably right. I don't think the explosion was accidental."

"Will it never end?" Petunia said, pouring herself another glass of whiskey.

"Okay, listen to me," Sirius said, firmly, as he took the whiskey bottle away despite Petunia's protests. "After this drink you are going to get a grip and—"

"MY EX-HUSBAND TRIED TO KILL US!" Petunia shouted, angrily. "First he gets mixed up in God only knows what! Then he nearly kills us all by driving drunk! Then he blows up our house! I think I have a right to lose it right now!"

"I'm not saying you shouldn't be angry or hurt or… whatever…" said Sirius, trying to call her down. "But you have to think about this. Okay? Obviously Vernon's part of something dangerous. So the first thing we need to worry about is making sure that—if he's still alive—he doesn't harm Harry or Dudley." Turning to the teens, Sirius added, "Until we're sure Vernon's not a threat, the two of you are not to leave here without someone with you. Understood?"

"Yeah, Sirius," Harry said, nodding. He had no intention of presenting himself as a target anyway. Voldemort had been bad enough, but Vernon was a muggle and wouldn't have to hide.

"Dudley?" Sirius asked, waiting for the teenager to agree to the conditions.

Dudley just nodded, vaguely. "Yeah… sure…No problem."

xxxx

That night, as Dudley and Harry lay in their beds, thinking on everything, Dudley said, "I can't believe my dad is evil."

Harry sighed as he thought about it. Although truthfully, he just wanted to get some sleep. "Could be worse…"

Dudley sat up, looking at Harry in disbelief. "Are you mental? We're basically homeless because Dad blew up the house!"

"He says to the teenager missing a leg because of a car crash and who happens to currently be in remission from cancer," Harry sneered, sitting up as well. "I've battled Voldemort himself. I've killed a 50 foot snake. Trust me—things could be far worse than this."

"I don't know if you're making me feel better or worse," Dudley replied, lying back down to try and go to sleep.

As Harry lay back down as well, a strange thought occurred to him. He was starting to sound like Dumbledore.

* * *

After two weeks stuck in Grimmauld Place there was still no sign of Vernon and Harry and Dudley were starting to become stir crazy from not being allowed out of the house. Sirius had been adamant about the two not going anywhere without an escort and Petunia was equally adamant that no one go anywhere _period_.

"Petunia, the boys can't just stay inside all summer," Sirius said as the two of them cleaned up after dinner. "I know that Vernon is still in the wind but Harry and Dudley are going crazy staying here all the time."

"Well, what can we do?" Petunia said, finishing scrubbing the last pan and rinsing it before handing it to Sirius to dry. "I don't want to run the risk of Vernon finding them. He hates Harry and even though Dudley is his son who knows what he'd do?"

"True," Sirius admitted, thinking. Suddenly, he had a brilliant notion. "We could always send them to the Weasleys."

"Would Molly be okay with that?" Petunia asked, hesitantly. "I know she invited Harry but would Dudley be welcome? I just hate splitting the boys up when they've only just started becoming so close."

Sirius grinned at the idea. "You tell the boys to pack. I'll handle Molly Weasley," he promised. As he left the room, he gave Petunia a smile and a light hand squeeze. Heading upstairs, he found the door to Dudley and Harry's room open. Not wanting to bother them if they were talking, Sirius just glanced inside but stopped when he saw that the teenagers weren't there. "Oh, bugger!" he said, immediately started searching the room and the rest of the upstairs. "Harry! Dudley!"

There was no answer and Sirius grew frantic as he searched every inch of the lower levels. Running back into the kitchen, he said, quickly, "Harry and Dudley are gone."

"What?" Petunia shrieked, dropping the pile of plates she'd been holding. Her mind was racing as every horrible situation started to run through her mind. "W-we have to find them! Did they just leave or…?"

Sirius shook his head. "I don't know. I don't think so, though. Come on. We have to call the muggle police."

* * *

"I always knew you were no good, Potter," Vernon Dursley said, his beady eyes alight with a scary madness. "Because of you now everyone knows about my business dealings. You turned my own family against me!"

In the dingy basement of an abandoned warehouse, Harry lay on the floor with Dudley, both of whom were tied up and gagged. Harry cursed himself mentally for forgetting his wand and tried to think of a way to get out of this mess. Of course even if there was a plan there was still the problem of not being able to walk as Vernon had removed Harry's prosthetic.

"Well, no matter," Vernon said, pacing along the floor. "Once I fake my death I'll be able to forget all about this place. And I'll finally be rid of you once and for all, FREAK!"

Dudley mumbled something angrily that sounded like "Don't call Harry a freak" earning him a hard kick in the ribs. But to his credit, Dudley didn't make a sound, even though he felt like at least two ribs were broken.

Sneering, Vernon kicked Harry as well, although he missed Harry's side and Vernon's foot collided with the IV port still in Harry's clavicle making the teenager give a muffled cry of pain. Looking down and seeing the blood soaking Harry's t-shirt, Vernon bent down and undid Harry's gag. "What's _that_, Potter?"

Harry glared at his uncle, but replied, "IV port. Doctors did it while I was having chemotherapy treatments. What do you care?"

"Going to die?" Vernon asked, in a hopeful tone. "Cause if you are, maybe I'll just let you live. Slow painful death, rather than what I have planned for you."

"Sorry to disappoint you… but no," Harry replied, a half-baked plan starting to form. If he could only make this work without his wand… "Though the cancer is a small part of why I lost my leg if that makes you happy. Magical healers couldn't regrow my leg because of a tumor."

"I'd be happier if you were dead," Vernon said, pulling a gun out of his pocket. "Say hello to your freak parents, Potter! You're about to join them!"

Dudley pulled his legs up to his chest as best he could and just as he heard the gun being cocked, he kicked out as hard as he could at his father's legs, making the portly man fall backwards. Finally relaxing his arms from when he'd flexed when his father had first tied him up, Dudley gave a short sigh of relief as the ropes loosened enough to wiggle free.

"Dudley!" Harry shouted as Vernon got to his feet and pointed the gun at his own son. _'Please work, please work, please work…'_ Harry thought as hard as he could as he shouted the word, "Expelliarmus!" To his delight and relief, Vernon flew backwards, hitting the wall hard and falling in a crumpled heap.

Dudley laughed as he managed to free his hands and remove his gag and quickly went to untie Harry. "Nice one, Harry. Didn't know you could do something like that without a wand?"

"Yeah, well… don't celebrate yet," Harry said, darkly as he used the rag that Vernon had been using to gag him to press against the bleeding IV port. "The Ministry of Magic doesn't like underage magic performed in front of muggles."

"He was going to kill us," Dudley argued, gently pulling Harry's hand away from his clavicle. "I think they'll let you slide on…"

Harry started to ask what was wrong, but as he looked at his upper chest, he understood. The IV port was partially ripped out and bleeding heavily. Harry tried to focus but he was feeling lightheaded now. "Hospital… now."

Dudley threw the ropes aside and looked about quickly, finding a roll of duct tape nearby. After securing the bloody rag with the tape, picked Harry up easily, pulling his cousin's arm around his shoulders before the two .headed out of the room. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

Harry nodded and hoped he didn't bleed out before Dudley could get him out of the warehouse.

Once outside, Dudley looked around the deserted street, not sure of exactly where they were, let alone where the nearest medical facility was. "You doing okay, Harry?" Dudley asked, concerned at how quiet Harry was.

"Okay… I think…" Harry said, weakly. "We need help."

"Trying to do that," Dudley replied, still looking around. "Come on." Still practically carrying Harry, Dudley hurried towards what looked like a shopping center.

"I need help!" Dudley shouted, as he got closer to a pet shop with its door opened. Looking at the woman behind the counter, he added, "Please!"

"God Lord, son!" a saleswoman said, as she ran outside to the two boys. Looking at the makeshift bandage on Harry's clavicle, she asked, "What happened?"

"My dad, he kicked my cousin hard. Harry has a central line and it started bleeding. My cousin needs an ambulance. Quickly!" Dudley said, starting to panic as he noticed Harry's eyes closing. Setting Harry down on the ground, Dudley pleaded, "Hold on, Harry. Help is on the way."

* * *

On the one hand Petunia was relieved that Harry and Dudley were alive.

On the other hand, hearing that they were in the hospital made her panic even more.

Sitting with Sirius, Remus Lupin, and Inspector Thomas Sawyer in the waiting room, Petunia tried to be calm when Anna Rion approached her. Her hospital scrubs had blood on them and she looked weary. "Harry and Dudley…" Petunia said quickly as she stood. "Are they okay?"

"Dudley's got some bumps and bruises and a couple cracked ribs, but he's fine," Anna said, smiling. "He'll have to stay overnight but you can take him home in the morning."

"What about Harry?" Sirius asked, looking worried. "Is he alright?"

"The blood loss wasn't as bad as it could have been," Anna replied, her smile fading. "But it's still not good. We had to remove the central line and Harry's currently in surgery to repair the vein but he should be just fine. He'll need to keep his right shoulder immobilized for about a month." Looking at Petunia and Sirius she added, "What the hell happened, anyway? Dudley said that he and Harry were kidnapped?"

"Petunia…" Sirius said, warningly, as he saw her heading for the nearest exit. He grabbed her arm to prevent her from running out the door and added, "You can't go after Vernon. Not now."

"Probably not ever," said another police detective as he joined the group. "Inspector, we just found Vernon Dursley's body in the warehouse."

"He's dead?" Petunia said with a sigh of relief. She didn't care if everyone knew she was happy about the idea. The bastard had nearly killed Harry and Dudley for a _third_ time now!

"Not yet," the detective said. "But he has severe head trauma. It looks like he's in a coma and the EMTs aren't holding out hope for a miracle. He's probably got only hours left."

"If he's lucky," Lupin said, an uncharacteristically dark look on his face. It was a pity the full moon was still two weeks off.

"Can I see my son?" Petunia said, looking at Anna.

"Sure," she replied, nodding. Flagging down a nurse, Anna asked, "Can you take Ms. Evans to see her son in exam 1?"

The nurse smiled and nodded. "Right this way," she replied.

"I'm coming, too," Thomas said, taking Petunia's hand. Looking at the other woman, he explained, "I need to take Dudley's statement."

Once the three were gone, Anna looked at Lupin and Sirius. "Come on… we can watch Harry's surgery from the observation deck."

As Anna started to lead her friends up to the surgical floor, Sirius grabbed her arm and pulled her into a deep, lingering kiss. "I've missed you so much," he said, smiling.

Anna laughed. "I know," she replied, taking Sirius's hand. "It seems like lately we're only together when something happens to Harry. Remember when we used to ditch classes and make out down by the lake."

"It doesn't have to be that way," Sirius said, flashing the most charming, winning smile he could muster. "We could start dating again. New start for both of us."

"I think I'd like that, Padfoot," Anna said, smiling back as she took his arm and they headed up to the surgical floor.


	10. Chapter 10

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Whoo-hoo! I'm almost finished with rewrite #2! My question to readers—as far as this storyline is this: Should I also rewrite the sequel to this story? If you haven't read it, the title is 'Fears'.

Also, my own dog, Abby, makes a cameo in this story!

Chapter 10

* * *

Harry awoke and immediately felt a rush of panic when he saw that he was again in the hospital. Wondering how badly he'd been hurt, he tried to think back to the events of the previous evening. "Aunt Petunia? Sirius? Dudley?" he said, looking around the room.

"Right here, Prongslet," Sirius said as the two came into the room and sat on either side of Harry's bed. "How are you?"

"Depends," Harry muttered, as he took his glasses from Sirius and put them on. "What am I doing here?" Looking up and seeing the bags of blood hooked to his left arm and that his right arm was in an immobilizer sling he asked, "Is it bad?"

"No," Petunia said, comfortingly. "It looks worse than it really is. When Vernon kicked you, the blow caused a hairline fracture of your right clavicle and partially tore out the IV port. There was some damage to your subclavien artery but you'll be just fine."

"Really?" Harry asked, somewhat doubtfully. After all he'd been through lately he wouldn't have been surprised at his aunt or godfather holding something back from him. "Or is there something else I should know?"

"Anna even checked your blood tests," Sirius reassured Harry. "You're as healthy as you can possibly be, considering. "

"You'll be out of hospital in a few days," Petunia said, cheerfully. "The doctors want to make sure your blood count is boosted enough."

"Blood replenishing potions work well," Sirius explained. "But the real thing works the best."

"Any news on Vernon?" Harry wanted to know, thinking about his uncle's body flying through the air before.

"Died this morning," Petunia said, without any trace of emotion. "Head trauma. He was unconscious and he never woke up."

"How's Dudley taking it?" Harry asked, thinking about how his cousin was dealing with the death of his father.

"He's angry at Vernon for trying to kill you," Petunia replied. "And he's blaming himself for letting you get kidnapped in the first place."

"We were just going for a walk…" Harry muttered. "We snuck out. We were going to stay on Grimmauld Place but Vernon pulled up, jumped out of the car and grabbed me…" Feeling tears welling up in his eyes, Harry tried to explain. "Dudley wanted to fight but Vernon pulled a knife and held it to my throat."

"I should have tackled the bastard," Dudley said as he stood in the doorway of Harry's room. "I should have stopped him before he pulled that knife."

Sirius motioned to Petunia and the two left the room, leaving Dudley and Harry alone to talk.

"Thanks for saving my life, Dud," Harry said, honestly. "Pretty sure I'd be dead if it wasn't for you."

"If it hadn't been for me your life wouldn't have needed saving," Dudley said, miserably as he entered the room. "It was my idea to leave the house."

"And you're also the one to drag my arse out of that building," Harry said, sitting up. "Dudley, think about it. Last summer, before the accident, would you have even considered saving my life?"

Dudley sighed as he sat in the plastic chair next to the bed. "Probably not. So… Mum said we're going to the Burrow when you get out of here."

"Great," Harry replied feeling a sense of relief. "It'll be good to get out of Grimmauld Place."

"It is a rather depressing place," Dudley agreed. "Even though Mum's been cleaning every inch of it, it's still pretty dreary."

"Of course, I'm not sure how mobile I'll be," Harry pointed out. "You know—the missing leg and all."

"Dr. Rion is bringing over your new prosthetic tonight," Dudley replied, smiling a bit. "I'm really glad you're okay."

"Hey, if an evil Dark wizard can't kill me a sociopathic muggle doesn't have a chance in Hell, right?" Harry said, trying to make a joke.

Dudley laughed out loud. "Yeah, I guess so. Hey… can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure," Harry said, curious as to what kind of favor his cousin was going to ask. "What?"

"I want to… meet girls…" Dudley said, looking embarrassed. "I-I've never really tried dating and you're pretty sharp with the ladies."

"Okay," Harry said, laughing. "Although you're going to have to resort to a few different tricks than me. But I guess we can—"

"Excuse me," said a teenage girl in the hallway. "Um… how do I get to the cafeteria from here?"

Harry grinned and pointed to Dudley. "My cousin here can show you."

The girl smiled as she entered the room and held a hand out to Dudley. "Hi. I'm Leslie James. My uncle is an oncologist here."

"I-I-I'm Dudley Evans," Dudley stammered, blushing. "Um, this is, uh… my cousin, Harry."

"Harry Potter," Harry said, holding out his left hand. Seeing the look Leslie gave him, he added, "I have a girlfriend already. Sorry, if you were going to ask me out."

"No, it's not that," Leslie said, looking at him with a look of recognition. "It's just… I know who you are. My uncle is Dr. Curtis Walden. He's told me all about you." Turning to Dudley, she asked, "So… are _you_ single, Dudley?"

x

"So…" Dudley said, as he sat at one of the tables in the hospital cafeteria opposite Leslie. After leading her down here, he'd suggested that grab a bite but small talk had been even more of a challenged than he'd expected. "Uh…"

"You don't talk to girls much, do you?" Leslie asked, amused.

"I… well, no," Dudley replied, succinctly. "Not much. Just not good with the small talk thing, you know?"

Leslie laughed but it was out of sympathy rather than ridicule. "It's okay. I'm not big on talking with guys. I've always been a shy girl. That's why Uncle Curt wants me to start hanging around here at the hospital. Apparently he believes that if I can talk to patients then I can talk to anyone."

"Maybe… you can help me," Dudley said, starting to become slightly more comfortable her. "You said that your uncle is Dr. Walden?"

"Yeah," Leslie replied. Lowering her voice she added, "And he's told me all about that magical stuff. Weird!"

"You know Harry's a wizard," Dudley said, his tone even. He liked this girl but if she was going to call Harry a freak, he couldn't do that to his cousin.

"Yeah, Uncle Curt told me," Leslie murmured. "Look, I'm not scared of that stuff… but you can't deny that it is weird."

"A bit," Dudley admitted. "To be honest… I think it was easier to talk with Harry before he…"

"Before he was sick?" Leslie prompted. "I understand."

"Just sitting with him, you know… it was weird. I didn't know what to say, how to act…" Dudley sighed and sipped his soda. "Anyway, so… what about you? What are you interested in?"

* * *

"Harry…"

Harry was only half awake when he heard a soft, misty voice calling his name. Opening his eyes, and fumbling for his glasses Harry blinked when the angelic form of Luna Lovegood came into focus. "This is a dream…" he whispered, not quite believing his eyes.

"Then it is a good dream…" Luna said, quietly as she sat down next to Harry on the bed. "I was worried about you," she said, stroking his cheek.

"I'm fine," Harry said, smiling as he sat up and gently caressed Luna's cheek as well. "I do love you…"

Luna leaned forward and kissed Harry, being careful not to jostle his injured arm. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'll be just fine," Harry assured her. "I'll be healed up in no time." Kissing his girlfriend, Harry closed his eyes as he whispered, "Luna…"

x

"Good dream, Prongslet?"

Harry's eyes snapped open and he was greeted by a burst of sunlight coming through the window. "Sirius?" he said, looking around. "Wh-where's Luna?"

"In your mind, Harry," Sirius laughed as he gave his godson his glasses. "I took over sitting with you around midnight and about an hour ago, you were muttering Luna's name."

"I didn't… say anything else, did I?" Harry asked, embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it, Harry," Sirius replied. "After 3 years of hearing James talk in his sleep about Lily I'm completely used to romantic dreams. At least you don't drool like James used to."

Harry smiled at that and after a while, he asked, "What about you and Dr. Rion?"

"What about us?" Sirius asked, confused. But realizing that Harry was talking about his romantic relationship with Anna, Sirius sat on the edge of the bed. "Anna and I are back together. We dated off and on through school. When you were born, Anna became your godmother."

Harry was surprised at that news and after a while, he asked, "Then why didn't I go live with her? Even if you were in Azkaban, couldn't I have gone to live with Dr. Rion?"

"I can't tell you why. I just don't know, Prongslet… Dumbledore made that decision," Sirius said, a note of sadness in his tone.

"Why do you call me that, anyway?" Harry asked, thinking of the nickname Sirius kept using for him.

"James called you that, since his nickname was Prongs," Sirius replied with a smile. "Harry, Lily gave her life for you, but you were the absolute center of your father's world. When you were a baby James and I would spend an entire day trying to wear you out while Lily went out for the afternoon. Then when Lily came home, she would have to put me _and_ James to bed before trying to get you to go to sleep."

Harry's mouth tweaked in a half-smile. "I was a troublemaker, huh?"

"Compared to what James and I were like as kids… you were an angel," Sirius said, smiling.

* * *

Pulling up the driveway of The Burrow a few days later and parking, Petunia got out of the car with Dudley before opening Harry's door and helping her nephew out. "How are you?" she asked, wondering how Harry was faring after the long car ride.

"I'm good," Harry replied, wincing as he bumped his right arm against the car's doorframe. "Happy to be out of the hospital again."

"Hopefully that will be the last time for a long while," Petunia said, trying to be comforting. "Although, August 24th you have an appointment with Anna Rion for a routine physical exam."

"Oh, goody," Harry replied, sarcastically. "Another opportunity to be poked and prodded like some sort of test subject."

"You need to be more positive," Dudley admonished, lightly. "Your last blood tests were great. You're healing up just fine from last week…" After looking at Harry for a moment, he added, "Don't make me beat you up."

"I have a cane and I'll use it," Harry warned, but he did smile. He knew what Dudley was saying and he had to admit that his cousin made an excellent point.

"Harry!" Hermione Granger shouted as she came running out of the Burrow and down the drive. When she stopped next to Petunia's car, she exclaimed. "Sirius told us what happened with your uncle. We were so worried about you!"

"I've battled basilisks, giant spiders, dementors, and Voldemort and facing my insane terrorist uncle worried you?" Harry asked, smirking.

"Well… yeah," Hermione replied, starting to smile. "Well, I mean… after everything you've been through, it'd be ironic, you know?"

"Hermione, it's okay," Harry said, giving his best friend a genuine smile. "Come on, you know by now it takes a lot to knock me down."

Hermione nodded before throwing her arms around Harry's neck. When he responded by giving her a one-armed hug, she said, quietly, "I'm still glad you're alright."

Once inside, Harry was surprised to find Draco Malfoy helping set the table for dinner. "I thought Mr. Weasley wasn't going to let you stay," Harry said, curiously. "How'd you change his mind?"

"I promised that I'd start working at Fred and George's joke shop so I can pay rent," Draco replied.

"The high and mighty Draco Malfoy is actually working?" Harry asked, smiling. "Will wonders never cease?"

"Yeah, well…" Draco said, shrugging as he looked over at Ginny. "It's worth it to be able to be near Ginny every day. By the way, Mrs. Weasley told me that the Order is working on finishing reconstruction on #4 Privet Drive. According to her, the house should be done next week."

"Okay…" Harry said, not sure what to think about this news. There had been a slightly twisted part of him that had enjoyed watching the house blow up—especially when he thought about the cupboard that had been his bedroom for 10 years.

"And Lupin told me they're making the entire basement your new room—complete with your own bathroom," Ginny added as she came in from the kitchen. "So you won't just have a dingy little room upstairs."

"Cool," Harry replied, honestly, thinking that the additional space would be nice. "Sounds great." Watching Draco and Ginny as they finished setting the table, Harry's eye caught a small bulge in Draco's pocket. "What's—?" Seeing the quick head shake from Draco, Harry changed his question. "What's for dinner?"

Petunia had been unable to stay for dinner as Inspector Sawyer had asked her on a date again and all through the meal, Harry watched Ginny and Draco with great interest. The Slytherin seemed nervous and while it could have just been because of living with the Weasleys, Harry's gut told him it was something else.

When Mr. Weasley started clearing the table after everyone had eaten their fill, Draco immediately jumped in to help and Harry glanced questioningly at Fred, George, Ron, and Hermione. "Any clue what that's all about?" Harry asked, curiously.

Fred pulled something that looked like a knot of flesh-colored string and after untangling 5 strings, he handed them out. "Extendible Ears," he explained. "We can use these to find out what Dad and Malfoy are talking about."

Once the Ears were activated, Harry listened to what seemed like basic conversation. Draco was asking about Mr. Weasley's work and other common things and none of it seemed to explain why Draco was being so nervous all of a sudden.

"Maybe we're just being—" But Ron was suddenly shushed by Hermione when Mr. Weasley stopped washing dishes.

X (POV shift)

"Listen… I won't deny that you've been an upstanding young man lately," Mr. Weasley said, turning to face Draco as he wiped his hands on a dish towel. "And I know what you want to ask me."

Draco nodded, looking into the eyes of Ginny's father. "I love Ginny. And I have done everything I can think of to show you that I'm worthy of her. I want to be with your daughter more than anything."

Mr. Weasley looked at Draco long and hard for a while before speaking. "Go outside for a moment."

Draco seemed perplexed by the request, but he just nodded and as he left the house, he caught Ginny's questioning look.

"Daddy? What's going on?" Ginny asked, walking into the kitchen where her father was using magic to finish the dishes.

"Ginny… You know how I feel about you and Draco Malfoy," Mr. Weasley said, not beating around the bush. "I won't pretend to like him… But I can't deny that he does care for you. He's made tremendous sacrifices to prove his intentions and while he comes from a questionable background he does seem to be really trying to build a new life for himself."

"Dad, what's your point?" Ginny said, uncertain at what was going on.

Mr. Weasley sighed and hugged his little girl. "The point is that no matter what happens, I need to learn how to let you grow up and make your own choices in life. Now Draco is waiting for you outside and I believe he has something important to ask you."

Ginny gave her father a quick hug before dashing out to the porch unaware that Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George had left the dining room and were now pressing their faces to the sitting room windows, eager to watch the scene unfold.

Hermione gasped as Draco knelt down on one knee, pulling out a small jewelry box. Grabbing Harry's hand, she gave it a squeeze as she watched Draco put a simple, yet beautiful, silver ring on Ginny's left hand.

Fred, George, and Ron all exchanged looks as they watched their little sister accept Draco Malfoy's marriage proposal. While they all wanted Ginny to be happy, they still had reservations about Draco now officially being part of the family.

* * *

Despite the cheerful atmosphere of the past month, Harry's birthday came on a dreary, rainy morning.

Waking to something licking his face, Harry opened his eyes expecting to see Sirius in his animagus form and was therefore surprised to find a small puppy licking his face with… Was a tongue that long on a puppy normal? Putting his glasses on, Harry sat up, scratching the dog's ears and grinning when it gave a yawn. "Hey, little guy…" Seeing that there was a collar on the dog's neck, Harry read the tag which said: 'My name is Abby'. "Sorry," Harry amended, still cuddling the cute little fuzz ball. "I should have said 'little girl'."

"Happy birthday, Harry," Dudley said as he woke up in his own bed on the other side of the room. Looking at the puppy now trying to lick Harry to death, he asked, "What kind of dog is that?"

Harry shrugged and Kiwi started yapping loudly. "Apparently an active one," Harry laughed as the young dog started trying to climb all over him.

Once the two were up and dressed, Harry and Dudley headed downstairs, the puppy hot on their heels.

"Is that an Australian shepherd?" Hermione asked, watching the puppy start running around the house.

"I guess…" Harry replied, sitting down at the table for breakfast. "I don't know dog breeds, personally."

"Morning, Harry!" Fred and George said in unison as they handed over a wrapped package. "Nice to see you're not so bald anymore," George added.

Harry smiled as he ran a hand across the peach fuzz of black hair which was starting to grow. He just hoped that his hair would grow back in it's usual messy style. "Thanks," he replied. "So what's this?" Harry asked, unwrapping the gift. Pulling out a T-shirt, Harry blinked as he saw a picture of himself looking very haggard. The front of the shirt said: 'I've been though a lot…' and the back read: 'I've been bitten by a basilisk, attacked by dementors and giant spiders, battled Voldemort, was hit by a car and lost my leg, survived cancer but lost my hair, and was nearly blown to pieces. How was your day?' Looking at the twins, Harry wasn't quite sure what to say. "Thanks…" he said, looking back at the shirt. "…I think."

"Luna owled this over last night," Ginny said, grinning like mad as she held out another gift.

As Harry took the small box from her he noticed the beautiful silver and emerald engagement ring on her left middle finger. Opening the small box, Harry reached in and pulled out a small medallion on a gold chain. On one side there was the Gryffindor crest and on the other were the words: 'For bravery against all life can throw'. Smiling at the sentiment, Harry looked at the T-shirt again. "I guess I have been though the wringer, huh?"

"Maybe once or twice," Ron said, grinning, handing over two books. One was a blank journal from Ron and the other was the entire _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy in one volume. Ron pointed to the larger book and said, "That one's from Hermione."

"Oh Harry, I forgot to tell you," Hermione said, excited. "Dr. Walden called me at home before I came here and he offered me a paid internship once I graduate Hogwarts. And he also said he could help me apply for a full scholarship for medical school."

"An intership doing what?" Dudley asked, glancing at his watch before looking back at Hermione.

"Research," Hermione replied. "It sounds really interesting and I'm sure it'll be fascinating to see… Dudley, why are you checking your watch?"

Dudley blushed as he looked up again. "Um… n-no reason," he said in a tone that convinced no one.

"Dudley met a girl while I was in the hospital this most recent time," Harry said, smirking. "He likes her."

"She said she lived near here," Dudley said, looking at his watch again. "I invited her to come but maybe with the storm…"

Harry turned to the door when he heard insistent knocking. "Maybe this is her now," he said, limping over to the door and opening it. But instead of Leslie James, Harry saw-"Sirius! I thought you weren't coming till later."

Stepping aside to let his godfather in, Harry's smile grew when he saw Luna Lovegood coming in behind followed by Leslie James. "Hi, Harry," Leslie said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before going to Dudley. "Hey, Dudley." Turning back to Harry she handed over a wrapped gift. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks, Leslie," Harry replied. "So… Nice weather, eh?"

* * *

_4 Years Later_

Hogwarts looked radiant in the bright summer sun as the staff and students—current and former—finished final preparations for the wedding of Luna Lovegood and Harry Potter.

By the lake, tents were set up providing the location for the reception.

On a raised platform a fair distance away from the other tents, Fred and George Weasley and Draco Malfoy were setting up for the fireworks display which would take place at dusk. The fireworks they'd arranged for the evening had been some of Draco's own designs specifically chosen for the evening and although Fred and George had been skeptical at first, they had to admit that the disowned Malfoy heir had a knack for product design.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley and Petunia were running down a final checklist on the food for the reception and any moment Petunia's new husband, Inspector Thomas Sawyer, would be arriving with the floral centerpieces for the tables.

Inside the castle, the Great Hall was crowded as people took their seats facing the altar at the front where the staff table usually was. The rest of the Weasleys sat all together although Ron and Ginny were up by the altar as part of the wedding party. Hermione stood with them, holding Ron's hand and every few seconds, Ron's finger brushed the beautiful diamond engagement ring on Hermione's finger.

x

Just outside the Great Hall, Sirius stood with Harry who, while deliriously happy, was still nervous. "Just breathe, Prongslet," Sirius advised, looking over his godson's tux and wedding robes. "You look just like James."

Harry grinned and ran a hand through his hair which had, thankfully, grown back as it's usual mess. "Thanks, Sirius. I'm scared," Harry admitted, still grinning. "I never thought I'd be getting married, you know."

"It's okay to feel a little scared," Sirius replied, twiddling the gold wedding band on his finger. Thinking of his own wedding to Anna three years ago, he added, "But I'll tell you something… Once you put that ring on her finger, that fear goes away and suddenly you can't remember being happier in your entire life."

Harry nodded, briefly glancing down at the prosthetic leg he'd had for nearly 5 years. "Sometimes when I'm with Luna, I just get lost in the moment and what happened 5 years ago… It just slips my mind, you know?"

"Then it's _definitely_ true love," Sirius laughed, pulling Harry into a hug. Holding Harry at arm's length, he straightened his godson's robes and gave him a hearty pat on the back. "Now… Go on in there, Prongslet. I'll be there as soon as I find Anna. I think she was in the kitchens supervising house elves."

Harry turned and headed into the Great Hall, heading over Ron who gave a smile and held up the small box with Luna's wedding band. "I'm keeping it safe for you, Harry," Ron said, smiling. "Don't worry."

"I'm not worried," Harry replied, giving Ron a quick hug. "Thanks for being my best man." Looking at Ginny and Hermione he added, "And thank you guys for being Luna's bridesmaids."

"Is Dudley coming?" Ginny asked. "I haven't seen him around."

"He and Leslie should be here in 10 minutes," Harry replied. "Where's Luna?" he asked, wondering where his bride to be got to.

Hermione pointed in the direction of a small room off of the Hall. "Her father's just helping her finish getting ready."

x

Luna twirled as she looked at herself in the mirror. The gown was made of a silvery material and seemed to float around her like a mist and the pale gold wedding robes she wore looked stunning. Her hair was done up in a braided knot and around her neck, an amethyst necklace that had once belonged to mother finished off the look.

"I wish your mother could be here to see you right now," Xenophilius Lovegood said as he fumbled with his own robes and the tux and bowtie he wore. Luna smiled and with a flick of her wand fixed the tie. "How is it…?" Xeno asked, looking at his only child. "…that you've become such an exquisite person? You've gown up so quickly…"

"I'll always be your little girl," Luna reminded her father before giving him a hug.

After the hug, Xeno stepped back and looked at the wedding dress his daughter wore. "You look so beautiful in your mother's gown."

"And Great Aunt Ruby's wedding robes go perfectly," Luna added, looking at the silver and gold ensemble she wore. Seeing a tear in her father's eye, she gave him a warm smile. "It's okay, Daddy."

"I know," Xeno whispered, hugging his daughter. "I just don't know if I'm ready to let go of you yet."

x

Once everyone was gathered and seated, Anna cued the music and as the delicate sounds of the Irish whistle played, the main doors of the Great Hall opened and the crowd turned as one to see Luna Lovegood on her father's arm coming down the aisle.

Up at the altar Harry knew that if he still had both knees they'd be shaking. Luna was the most perfect vision as she practically floated up to him. Harry took both Luna's hands in his and looked into her beautiful gray eyes, not even really hearing Dumbledore's voice as the headmaster said his name.

"If you are ready to begin, Harry…" Albus Dumbledore said, looking at the couple. Seeing Harry's vague nod, the headmaster began as he addressed the crowd. "Family and good friends… Here today we gather to unite two people with a magic that knows no boundaries…" Glancing at Draco and Ginny who smiled back at him, Dumbledore continued. "Before us today Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood offer themselves to each other and desire to forever bind themselves in matrimony."

Luna looked into Harry's green eyes and said, "Before she died… my mother told me that all we truly need in life is for but one person to believe in us. I have believed in you from the first moment I met you. I believed that you were a good person and a hero to all. I believed that you could overcome all obstacles in your way… and I believed that you would defeat a most sinister enemy. I will always believe in you, Harry Potter. I love you now and forever."

Harry felt his heart beat faster as he said, "You've been there for me ever since the first day of my 5th year. The way I feel about you… I've never felt that way about anyone before. With you I feel passion and serenity, chaos and peace… You captured my heart from the first time we touched. And with you by my side I know I can conquer anything."

"Mr. Weasley… Miss Granger…" Dumbledore said, looking at Harry's best friends. "The rings, please…"

Luna took the thick gold band from Hermione and said, "I, Luna Florence Lovegood, forever entwine my heart with yours. Through sun and storm, joy and sadness, sickness and health, life and death. Wherever you are, I want to be." Sliding the ring on Harry's finger, she said, "With this ring, I marry my one true love."

Harry couldn't find his voice for a moment as Ron gave him Luna's ring. When he finally found his voice, he said, "I, Harry James Potter, forever entwine my heart with yours. Through sun and storm, joy and sadness, sickness and health, life and death. Anything that means anything to you means everything to me." Sliding the ring on Luna's finger, he finished, "With this ring, I marry my one true love."

"Rings are the outward symbol of love," Dumbledore said, looking at those in the crowd who were holding hands, remembering their own relationships and weddings. "And today as Harry and Luna join those of you who are happily married, I ask all of you to remember this special bond, that which not even the strongest magic can sever." Looking at Harry and Luna, Dumbledore said, "I now present to you all, Mr. And Mrs. Harry Potter."

Harry pulled Luna to him and the kiss they shared spoke of love, friendship, and the strongest fidelity.

x

Out on the grounds, Dudley shook hands with his cousin. "Congratulations, Harry," Dudley said with a warm smile.

"Thanks, Dud," Harry replied, grinning. "How about you and Leslie? Have the two of you set a wedding date yet?"

Dudley looked over to where his mother was standing and then back at Harry before pulling on a chain under his shirt. Harry saw that on the chain there was a silver wedding band and his eyes widened in surprise. "Leslie and I eloped last month," Dudley explained, tucking the chain back under his shirt. "Don't tell Mum. I'll tell her myself later."

"Your funeral, Dudley," Harry chuckled as Luna came up to him. "Hello, Mrs. Luna Potter," he said, taking her hand and kissing it.

Luna smiled serenely as she took Harry's arm and led him away from the others before pulling her new husband into a deep and tender kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

AUTHOR'S NOTES: My second rewrite is finished! Hope y'all enjoy the epilogue and I will be rewriting the side story/sequel to this fic soon.

In the meantime, if you guys enjoy the show 'Supernatural' please feel free to check out my stories 'Family Ties' and 'And Fi Makes Three'!

Chapter 11—Epilogue

* * *

_15 Years Later_

* * *

Autumn seemed to arrive early that year.

To Harry it seemed like he had just greeted his children as they got off the Hogwarts Express at the end of last term.

But the summer months had passed by like a whirlwind and now Harry was once again saying good-bye to his kids.

Hearing laughter behind him, Harry turned to see his wife coming through the barrier onto Platform 9 ¾ with their sons and daughters.

The triplets, Adrienne—who preferred to be called Addie—Camille, and Gwen, grinned as they each held the signed permission forms to visit Hogsmeade and although it would be Cedric's first year at Hogwarts, Harry knew full well that his oldest son, James, had already handed over the Marauder's Map to his younger brother.

Luna smiled serenely at the kids as she helped them get their trunks on board and just as Harry pulled his wife close for a kiss, he heard someone shouting, "Oi! Not in front of the kiddies!"

Turning, Harry saw Dudley walking up with a wide-eyed little girl who looked as though she'd never seen a train before in her life as she looked around the platform. Dudley was pushing a trolley which held the usual trunk, knapsack, and cage which contained a barred owl which was looking around as it heard the other students' owls screeching softly. Looking from Dudley to his daughter and back again, Harry said, "You didn't tell me…"

"That Nicole was a witch?" Dudley finished with a laugh. "It was certainly a surprise, I'll tell you that." He gave his daughter a warm smile as he gave Nicole a one armed hug. "But I couldn't be happier… or prouder."

"Is Leslie coming?" Luna asked, looking at the platform entrance to see if Dudley's wife was coming behind them.

"She wanted to, but she has meetings with patients all day today," Dudley replied. Glancing over at Camille who was chatting happily with her sisters, he asked, "How's Cam doing?"

"She had her one year check up last week," Harry said, a relieved smile on his face. "And she's still in remission. Thank God wizards recover from cancer quicker than muggles. And that Hermione was successful with that new chemotherapy drug."

"Well, I'm sorry I couldn't come by this summer," Dudley said, watching his daughter talking with Harry's kids. "But I was so busy with cases over at child services. Mum even told me she took in another foster child."

"What's the count now?" Harry asked, still amazed that his aunt and her second husband—police inspector Thomas Sawyer—were now foster parents. But it was yet another example of how much Petunia had changed over the years.

"Seven," Dudley replied. "The newest girl, Joanna… Her father actually put her in the hospital with some pretty nasty injuries. She'll likely have a permanent limp but she'll be okay, eventually, I hope."

"Uncle Harry, James is teasing me!"

Harry turned to see 12-year-old Claire Malfoy running away from James and back to her father who joined the other two fathers. "Ready for another year of teaching, Draco?" Harry asked.

Draco Malfoy grinned as he walked up to Harry and shook the other man's hand. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to having Cedric this year."

Harry looked over at his youngest son who was still standing off to the side, separate from everyone else. "Try and get him out of his shell, will you?" Harry said, still watching Cedric as the young boy stood by himself.

"I will certainly try," Draco promised. "So does that mean you're not going to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts this year?"

Harry shook his head and Dudley looked surprised at that. "But you love teaching, Harry," Dudley argued.

Harry shrugged, not sure of how to explain. "Luna's still teaching Divination. But Leslie wants me to help her out this year as a counselor for her patients."

Dudley nodded, knowingly, thinking of the cases his wife saw as a pediatric oncologist. "I understand. Still, I wish you—"

"What the bloody HELL?"

Draco, Harry, and Dudley whirled around to see what was going on and who had exclaimed. Looking at the scene before them, Harry and Draco gaped at what they saw.

In a quiet alcove of the platform, James Theodore Potter was in the middle of a tender, loving kiss with none other than Nicholas Radcliffe Malfoy. When they heard the exclamation of Gwen Potter, the two 15-year-olds pulled away and didn't meet their fathers' looks as Harry and Draco walked over to them.

Finally, Harry grinned and laughed warmly and Draco just shook his head, smiling in disbelief.

"Dad?" James said, looking confused at his father's reaction. "What's so funny?"

Harry shook his head one before he replied, "Your mother told me that she suspected you and Nicholas were closer than just best friends a while ago." Looking at his oldest child, who looked like he was expecting to be yelled at, Harry said, "I'm not mad, James. And if the two of you are happy then I'm happy for you."

Nicholas looked at his own father, equally nervous, and asked, "Dad… Are you okay with this?"

"Your grandfather would be spinning in his grave," Draco replied, smiling as he thought of Lucius Malfoy who had always been resolutely homophobic. "So I have no problems with this. If the two of you love each other, who am I to stop you?"

The two teenagers looked relieved at the reactions from their respective parents and quickly went to board the train after saying good-bye to their families.

Glancing at the clock on the wall and seeing that there was only a short amount of time before the train left, Harry looked over at Cedric and decided to have a quick chat with him.

Cedric looked sheepish when he saw his father walking over but said nothing.

Harry smiled at his youngest child and led him over to a bench, sitting down so he could look Cedric in the eye. "Cedric… did I ever tell you who I named you after?" Harry asked.

Cedric shook his head and Harry went on. "When I was 14, I was entered in a dangerous competition. Another boy from Hogwarts—an older boy—was in the competition as well. His name was Cedric Diggory." Seeing that his son was listening intently, Harry continued with the story. "At the end of the competition, Cedric was killed because he wanted to be fair. If he had lived he and I would have both won. Cedric Diggory was an honest, hardworking, and truly noble person. And I named you after him because I always hoped that you would be just like him."

Cedric smiled as he thought of the fact that he was named after someone his father thought so highly of. "You really think I'm that special?" he asked, looking his father in the eye.

"You have always been special to me, Ced," Harry replied. "And I know you're going to make me proud."

When Cedric hugged him, Harry hugged back, happy that his son was finally opening up a bit.

* * *

"And then James kissed Nick on the lips!" Addie said to her best friend, Deanna Black, as they sat in their compartment on the Hogwarts Express.

The train had been going for only 15 minutes, but already the buzz was going around about the oldest sons of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy snogging on the platform.

Deanna's jaw dropped is surprise. "They _kissed_? I never knew your brother was gay!" she said, looking at the triplets.

"I thought Uncle Draco was going a coronary," Gwen said, still not quite believing what had happened. "But he just smiled and patted Nick on the back."

"So… do you think Mum knows about them?" Addie asked, curious.

"She does," Camille replied, nodding. "I heard Dad tell James that Mum knew for a while."

Addie and Gwen went quiet for a moment as they studied their sister. It was hard to believe that it had been a year since Camille went into remission from cancer. And even though Cam was now as healthy as she could be, she still had reminders of the chemotherapy treatments—primarily the central line still inserted in her upper chest—but also the fact that her curly black hair had fallen out during chemo, growing back as straight and pale blonde, making Camille look more like her mother now than her father and sisters.

* * *

Sitting at the staff table between Luna and Sirius Black that evening, Draco looked down at the students waiting to be Sorted. The day had been long as Draco made his lesson plans for the first term and he mentally cursed Harry for always making teaching preparations seem so easy.

In the line of first year students, Cedric Potter looked unbelievably nervous while Nicole Evans was eagerly looking around the Great Hall in awe and wonder.

Further down the line of first years, Draco saw a familiar head of bushy red hair: Roslyn Weasley who had, Draco was amused to note, her nose in a very worn copy of _Hogwarts, A History_. "Like mother, like daughter," Draco commented to Sirius as he nodded towards the only child of Hermione Weasley.

"Oh, don't be fooled by the book," Sirius warned, keeping his voice down. "Rose Weasley is twice the spitfire Hermione is. The kid just _looks_ sweet and innocent."

Once all the other students had taken their seats, Professor McGonagall stood by a rickety stool holding an old, frayed, patched hat in one hand and a list in the other. Addressing the new students, she said, "When I call your name, please sit on the stool and I will place the Sorting Hat on your head." Starting with the first name on the list, McGonagall read aloud, "Nicole Evans."

Nicole walked up and sat down and the Hat was set on her head. After a while, the Hat called out, "RAVENCLAW!"

Draco clapped along with the other teachers and watched until the last student, Cedric Potter, was called. Luna, Draco, Sirius, and Neville Longbottom—the new DADA teacher—leaned forward eagerly, wondering where the young boy would go.

Luna could tell her youngest son was nervous and when he looked up at the table, she gave him a smile and a nod. She knew that Cedric was scared about following in his father's footsteps, but just like Harry, Cedric had more in him that he realized.

Cedric smiled back and once the Sorting Hat was on his head, he heard a small voice in his mind. _"You're just like Cedric Diggory when he was first Sorted. Quiet, shy… But you also have the strength, courage, and heart of your father… Any House would serve you well… But I think you will do best in your father's House."_

Out loud, the Hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

As Cedric ran off to join his siblings, Dumbledore smiled as he watched his students. Standing up and spreading his arms in welcome he said, "Welcome one and all to Hogwarts School. Before we begin the feast, I'd like to say a few words…"

_THE END_


End file.
